Reasons of the Heart
by whoa nellie
Summary: A recipient of a 1999 ASC award, Picard decides to pursue his heart's true desire.


Reasons of the Heart

1999 ASC Award Winner   
Author: Whoa Nellie   
Series: TNG   
Rating: PG-13   
Codes: P/Vash, crew

Synopsis: While investigating a quantum fissure, the Enterprise E (from the canon universe post- 'Insurrection' but, pre-'Nemesis') discovers a breach between their quantum reality and one other reality (Whoa Nellie's Double Entendre alternate universe). While the ships work together to close the breach, the canon Picard notices things in his counterpart's life that are missing in his own. After returning to his own universe, the canon Picard decides to pursue his heart's true desire.

Author's note: The recipient of a 1999 ASC award, 'Reasons of the Heart' was originally posted to alt.startrek.creative on Nov 14, 1999 with a NC-17 rating. This version of story has been revised and edited down to a PG-13 rated story. If you are over 18 and would prefer to read the NC-17 version of this story, it along with the complete collection of Picard/Vash romance stories can be found at Whoa Nellie's Picard and Vash Romance Fan Fiction site listed on our author page.

As always: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have more fun playing with them.   
Feedback is always appreciated, posted or e-mail.

Reasons of the Heart

"Captain's personal log, the Enterprise is en route to the Ilecom system to close a small quantum fissure detected in the area. Starfleet Command is concerned that there may be a dangerous situation out there. I must admit that I'm rather looking forward to dealing with a natural phenomenon. Ever since the last battle with the Borg and the Dominion war, it seems that putting out political brushfires is all the Enterprise does. This assignment is not exactly 'boldly going where no one has gone before' but it is a step in the right direction," Captain Jean-Luc Picard closed his log. Standing up from his readyroom desk chair, he straightened his uniform jacket and headed onto the bridge.

On the bridge of the Enterprise E, Commander William T. Riker sat in the command chair. "Mr. Data, give me a preliminary report on the anomaly."

Sitting just to the left of Riker at her station, Counselor Deanna Troi sounded weary. "Data, let's work on your social skills, see if you can explain this in terms that don't require an advanced degree in engineering?"

Commander Data turned around from his position at ops. "Of course, Counselor. We are going to investigate a quantum fissure. In the twentieth century, Dr. Richard Feynmann proposed the theory of the 'Sum over histories' stating that a particle would not have a single history or path in space-time, but would instead follow every possible path. We now know that our own quantum reality is one of an infinite number of quantum realities that exist side by side along the space-time continuum. Every occurrence and outcome that could exist does exist in different quantum realities, realities that become increasingly more divergent. Each of these realities has its own quantum signature, which is constant and cannot be changed by any known means. A quantum fissure is a fixed point in the time-space continuum that can act as a keyhole into other realities. We need to make sure the barrier between the realities is intact."

"Maybe somewhere out there you let me keep my beard," Riker teased Deanna quietly.

"Thank you, Data," Deanna smiled. Looking over at Riker, she retorted, "well, if I can get you to shave, maybe I can teach Data to kiss."

Data gave her a curious expression. "Counselor, I am already aware of how to osculate; however, would not your instructing me be somewhat improper, considering your personal relationship with Commander Riker?"

Overhearing the exchange as he stepped out of his readyroom, Picard allowed himself a small wry smile. "Data, I think the counselor was using the acronym K. I. S. for keep it simple."

Hearing the resonating baritone of their commanding officer, Lieutenant Robin Lefler called out from her post at the conn, "captain on deck."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, we noticed," Riker replied as he shared an amused look with Picard. Lefler was a promising officer, but she was still young and a little gung ho. Stepping down from the command chair, Riker smiled at the young woman. "The bridge is quite a bit smaller than main engineering, making it unnecessary to announce it every time the captain steps out of his ready room."

"Aye, sir." Lefler looked up at the first officer and returned his smile. "I was only endeavoring to be helpful."

"Duly noted, Lieutenant." Picard sat down in the command chair Riker had just vacated. "How long till we reach the quantum fissure?"

"We're approaching the phenomenon now, sir," Lefler responded.

"Report, Mr. Data." Picard turned to look at the android.

"Sensors show there is indeed a tear in the barrier between our quantum reality and one other. The tear is 2.123 kilometers in diameter."

"On screen," Picard ordered. The screen instantly came to life, showing the stars of this region of space. The only visible sign of the fissure was a slight distortion of starlight around its edges. Suddenly, he saw the ship in the middle of the fissure. He knew every graceful line of her hull. "Data, I don't suppose that is a sensor ghost of some kind."

"No sir," The android replied. "That ship's quantum signature matches that of the other reality. Registry number N.C.C.-1701-E USS Enterprise. This may be very beneficial."

"How so?" Picard asked.

"Originally, Geordi and I were planning to use probes placed along both sides of the fissure to generate inverse warpfields and close the fissure. However, that would require sending a number of probes through the fissure which might tear the breach further. It would also require leaving those probes in the other quantum reality. If we could work in unison with the other ship it would eliminate both of those problems. For this plan to work, the probes must be calibrated exactly and placed in very specific spots along both sides of the fissure. If the other ship agrees, I would recommending beaming a small party over to coordinate the efforts of both ships. Two transporter trips through the fissure would be much less detrimental than a dozen probes."

"Understood, Data," the captain nodded.

"Captain," Troi spoke up.

"Yes, Counselor." Picard turned to toward her.

"I would recommend limiting contact between the two crews. Most people find dealing with a duplicate of themselves somewhat disturbing," Troi explained.

"Any recommendations for the away team?" Picard asked.

"Data is an obvious first choice. He possesses all the needed technical knowledge and his positronic brain will allow him to adapt to the situation easily. And if Commander Riker will forgive me, you, sir, would be my second choice. You have already dealt with alternate timelines on a number of different occasions," Troi answered. She gave Will an apologetic glance. She knew Will hated it when the captain took on possibly dangerous away missions, but that didn't change the fact that the captain was the best suited candidate for this mission.

"Number One?" Picard looked over at his first officer.

Riker sighed as he unclenched his jaw. He detested sending the captain into an unknown situation. "I hate to admit it but, she's right. You're the one best suited for this."

"Sir," Lefler broke in. "We're being hailed."

"On screen," Picard replied as he sat up straighter in the command chair. The screen flickered to show a view of the Enterprise's bridge with only one noticeable difference. Worf was standing at tactical. Picard greeted his counterpart, "Captain, I assume you were sent by your Starfleet to investigate the fissure."

The other Picard responded with a genuine smile. "Actually Captain, we discovered it quite by accident. My . . ." he paused a moment before continuing, "my ship's head archaeologist discovered some anomalous readings while scanning a large Dinasian artifact on a nearby asteroid for terikon particle decay. Although I'm sure Starfleet will want to me to close this little peephole once they receive my report."

"My second officer and my chief engineer have devised a plan to close the fissure, but it has a better chance of success if both of our ships work together. However, my ship's counselor has warned against undue contact between both crews and has advised limiting contact to only what's necessary," Picard informed his counterpart.

"As has mine."

"With your permission, Mr. Data and I will beam over to coordinate the efforts of both ships."

"Agreed." The other Picard nodded. Raising an amused eyebrow, he added, "you have to admit, it beats putting out all those political brushfires."

A short time later, Picard and Data beamed over to the other Enterprise. In the transporter room they were greeted by that ship's captain and second officer.

As they stepped off the transporter pad, the other Picard reached out for a handshake. "Welcome aboard, Captain."

"Thank you."

The other Picard looked over at his second officer, "Data, please show Mr. Data to Engineering. I know Geordi is waiting for both of you."

"Aye sir." Both androids headed off for engineering.

"We can wait in my ready room for their preliminary report," the other Picard offered, gesturing to the door of the transporter room.

As his counterpart motioned toward the door, Picard noticed his wedding ring for the first time. "Of course."

As the two captains walked out of the turbolift and onto the bridge, Lieutenant Lefler called out from where she was standing next to the turbolift, "captains on deck."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," the other Picard responded dryly. Turning to face her, he said privately, "just couldn't resist that one, could you, Robin?"

The pretty brunette stood at attention, but her eyes sparkled. "No, sir."

"I take it you're headed to engineering to help Commander LaForge with the probes?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

"Good. That should keep you out of the trio's sphere of influence for a short period of time anyway. Carry on."

"Aye, sir," Lefler answered as she headed into the turbolift.

A bearded William Riker approached them. "Welcome aboard, Captain."

"Thank you, Number One," Picard responded almost instinctively.

"You have the bridge, Number One," the other Picard directed as he headed for the ready room.

"Aye, sir," the first officer replied, heading toward the command chair.

As the two captains entered into the readyroom, Picard noted it was almost identical to his own with only a few exceptions. Instead of the bed/ lounge he had in his, there was a couch. His eyes fell on the painting above the couch. Completely stunned, he took in a deep breath with an audible gasp as his steel-grey eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. The formal bridal portrait of Madame Picard captured how resplendent she must have looked in her bridal gown of ivory satin overlaid with lace and completely covered with sequins and seed pearls. A tiara of pearls and Austrian crystals held a veil which settled like a soft mist over her dark hair, perfectly framing her delicate features and vivid blue eyes. She wore a serene smile on her lush, rose-petal lips. In the portrait she looked like a queen, each sequin and crystal making her shimmer from head to toe as she sat so regally with the full ballgown skirt spilling over the sides of the captain's chair on the bridge of the Enterprise E.

"Vash!" Picard exclaimed under his breath, taking a step forward bewitched by the dazzling sight.

"The loveliest bride the Federation has ever seen," the other Picard stated proudly as he sat down behind his desk.

"Of that I have no doubt," Picard replied earnestly. Regaining his composure, he turned to face his counterpart. "My apologies. I was caught off guard."

"I had a similar reaction when Vash started down the aisle of the chapel in Labarre." The other Picard smiled wistfully at the memory. "Will and Louis joked that they both thought I was going to need yet another artificial heart."

"It's a beautiful painting, but the command chair?" Picard asked as he sat down on the couch below the painting.

"The painting was a wedding gift from Data. How she talked him into the command chair I'll never know and maybe it's better that way," the other Picard said with an amused sigh. The door chime rang and he called out, "come."

"Hello darling," Madame Vash Picard strode into her husband's office. The soft angora wool of her blue-grey sweater dress clung to the perfect curves of her delicate frame. Both men stood as she crossed the room to her husband's desk. "I brought you the results from the scans my lab ran earlier."

"Thank you, chere." The other Picard gave his wife a kiss on the cheek as he took the offered PADD from her. Coming around the desk, he gestured to the other man in the room with a wry grin, "may I introduce you to . . . Captain Jean-Luc Picard."

"Welcome aboard, Captain." Vash smiled as she held out her hand.

"Thank you, Mrs. Picard," Picard responded politely as he took her hand in greeting. She was as enchanting as he remembered Vash from the last time he saw her. Her silky, brunette hair fell gracefully to her shoulders framing her lovely features and her blue eyes sparkled as she graced him with her charming smile. It took considerable effort to keep his gaze from trailing down her feminine silhouette to her long, shapely legs.

"Please call me Vash. Considering the circumstances, Mrs. Picard seems a bit formal. How in the world am I supposed to keep things straight when referring to either of you?" Vash glanced expectantly from one man to the other. Both of these men were genetically Jean-Luc Picard, with the same sleek, muscular build, the same handsome, chiseled features, the same penetrating, steel-grey eyes, and the same deep, sexy, resonating voice. She noticed that both were also wearing the newer version of Starfleet's uniform, mostly black with grey shoulders and a burgundy tunic underneath. Vash perched herself on her husband's desk, crossing her legs. "I don't mean to cast doubt on anyone's military prowess here, but after you saw each other on the viewscreen, did it even occur to one of you two legendary strategists to change uniforms?"

"No, but it should have," Picard admitted with a small self-depreciating, as he sat back down on the couch.

As her husband sat down behind his desk, Vash looked back at him over her shoulder. "You have an appointment with Beverly later this afternoon for your physical. Afterwards, you can stop in our quarters and change into a different uniform."

"Chere . . ." the other Picard began.

Swinging herself around to sit facing him, she scolded, "oh no you don't. You have already stood her up twice this week."

"I'm a little busy today," her husband explained.

"Doing what?" Vash shot back, her eyes blazing with a fire both men knew all to well. "What are you two planning to do, besides going down to engineering and micromanaging Geordi and Data. All you'll accomplish is making poor Reggie doubly nervous."

Looking up at his wife, the other Picard chastised gently, "Vash."

As she raised her hands in capitulation, her tone was anything but conciliatory, "fine don't have your physical and die decades before you should. Will can take over command of the Enterprise. I'll take your death benefits and go back to Earth to sun myself on the French Riveria while drowning my sorrows in bottles of Chateau Picard and well-built cabaña boys named Pierre."

Sharing an amused look with his counterpart, Picard chuckled, "she definitely has a way of putting things in perspective, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does," the other Picard agreed. With a sigh, he looked up at his wife who was still sitting on his desk, "if it's that important to you, ma petite."

Reaching out to brush her fingers across his cheek, Vash gazed down tenderly at her husband, "no, you're that important to me. Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime," her husband whispered in reply as he kissed the back of her hand.

Picard caught his breath at the intensity of emotion in her words and her eyes as this Vash stared down at her husband. It was obvious that the raving beauty was passionately in love with her husband and he with her. Picard had resigned himself to the fact that he would simply never know the joy of that kind of love. But here, his counterpart had managed to find it and with one of the most exceptional women Picard had ever had the pleasure of knowing. His mind wandered to his own universe's Vash. He knew she was still single. He had kept in touch with her over the years, following her career and antics. Maybe . . .

Pulling herself from her husband's gaze, Vash asked, "which leads me back to my original question of how to refer to the two of you?"

"Jean-Luc will be fine. Unless it's a case where there might be some confusion about who you're addressing, then just use my rank," Picard answered. Looking over at his counterpart, he added, "I assume she doesn't call you 'captain.' "

"Only when I'm in serious trouble," the other Picard quipped. He picked up the PADD Vash had handed him earlier and began to study the results of her scans.

"Earl Grey?" Vash asked her husband as he examined the information. He nodded and murmured a thank you without ever taking his eyes off the PADD. She turned to Picard, "and you, Jean-Luc?"

"Yes, thank you," Picard replied. With a smile, she gracefully slid off the desk and walked across the room to the replicator.

"These are the most detailed scans I've seen of the fissure so far," the other Picard commented as he handed the PADD to Picard to review. "Engineering could . . ."

"Geordi already has them, dear," Vash's singsong answer drifted over from where she was working at the replicator. Making her way back over to them, she sat the first cup of tea on the desk in front of her husband who was already furiously working on another PADD.

Picard's attention wandered from the PADD he was reading as Vash bent to place the second cup of tea on the table next to him. It was amazing, even the soft scent of her perfume was the same. Glancing up, he found himself staring directly into her vivid blue eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Vash replied with a shy smile as she straightened up. The gentleness in his grey eyes and rich baritone very closely resembled her own husband's. Making her way over to feed the fish in her husband's aquarium, she listened to the sound of their voices as they discussed the various options their crews might present to them and the ramifications of each.

A short time later, the other Picard turned his attention back to his wife. "Ma petite, when the Imperial Captain Picard crossed over you developed a way to tell us apart . . ."

"Captain Psychopath came from a very different reality and it was his extreme personality that gave him away," Vash replied, turning away from the fish tank and toward the two men. "It would seem these two quantum realities are very similar, making the two of you much closer in personality."

Picard looked at his counterpart with concern. "I'm assuming that since you have had an Imperial crossover you checked my ship's quantum signature . . ."

"Before we even hailed you," the other Picard finished.

"If you don't mind me asking, what was he after?" Picard asked his curiosity piqued.

Before her husband could answer, Vash piped up, "me."

Completely taken back, Picard couldn't keep the concern from his voice, "whatever for?"

"A concubine," she answered simply.

"What?" Picard sounded shocked.

"A concubine, a courtesan, a member of a harem . . ." Vash began to rattle off.

"I think he gets the idea, ma petite; and you've been spending too much time with Data," the other Picard interrupted his wife. Turning to Picard, he assured him, "The matter was dealt with."

"Of course," Picard nodded. Glancing over at Vash, he was struck by a horrifying image that caused his blood to run cold.

The other Picard saw the look on his counterpart's face and knew where his thoughts had turned. "You're thinking about the last battle with the Borg."

"In my universe, they managed to assimilate over half of the Enterprise before we stopped them." Picard admitted turning to look at the other captain.

"Just as they did here," the other Picard told him suppressing a shudder at the memory.

"How did you manage to protect her?" Picard asked.

Vash could hear the strain in both men's voices. Walking over to where her husband sat behind his desk, she laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. To soothe both men, she was intentionally flippant, "I took it upon myself to get the hell out of Dodge."

"Excuse me?" Picard prompted.

"As soon as I realized what was happening, I gathered all the other civilians onboard onto the Calypso, flew her to the darkside of the moon and landed her there, hiding us in a deep crater," she informed him.

"You had the authorization codes to the Calypso?" Picard inquired.

"No." Vash innocently gazed up at the ceiling. "I hotwired her."

Picard's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "Are you telling me that you hotwired and stole the captain's yacht?"

"I found it necessary to appropriate her at the time," she answered, amused by his response.

"How in God's name did you learn to hotwire a shuttle?" Picard was flabbergasted.

The other Picard leaned back in his chair and sighed with amused exasperation, "you will really regret asking that question."

"Old man Galen," Vash replied with delight.

"Professor Richard Galen," Picard echoed, surprised to hear her name his late mentor. "I didn't know you studied under him."

"All the best did." She sat down on the edge of the desk.

"He never taught anything like that when I studied under him," Picard said.

"Do you really think he would give a young, upstart Starfleet officer a crash course in pilferage 101?" Vash chuckled. "I remember him saying, 'Now Miss Vash, there are doors those baby blues of yours won't open. Pay attention now, because I'm going to teach you how to open those doors.' "

As Picard leaned back into the couch, his counterpart chuckled, "I knew you'd regret asking that question. The important thing is that she saved herself and the other civilians onboard."

Looking at Vash with pure admiration in his eyes, Picard said, "in any universe, you are a remarkable woman."

"Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Picard," she quipped good-naturedly. Sliding from the desk to her feet, she added, "now, if you two gentlemen will excuse me I'm supposed to meet Beverly and Deanna at the ship's salon. We all have appointments with Mr. Mott this morning."

"The trio strikes again," the other Picard teased as he stood up.

"There was originally supposed to be four of us but Robin Lefler is now busy in engineering." Vash splayed her hand flirtatiously across her husband's chest. "It's no use, Jean-Luc. She's ours now. With her acerbic wit, she is a natural-born prima dona."

Shaking his head with gentle exasperation, he said, "tell Beverly I'll see her for my appointment later this afternoon."

"Yes, dear," She replied. Giving her husband a kiss good-bye, she headed out of the readyroom.

Several hours later, Picard sat alone in a quiet corner of the forward lounge. Out the huge bay windows, he could see his own Enterprise floating majestically against a backdrop of stars. According to Data's calculations, it would be at least sixteen more hours before the probes would be ready and in place on both sides of the fissure. Unable to keep his eyes from the bridal portrait or his mind off of the beautiful woman in it, he had left his counterpart's ready room to work in the nearly-deserted lounge. As he stared through the fissure at the stars of his own universe, his mind wandered to thoughts of his Vash . . .

The cave floor was unyielding beneath the blankets as Picard laid on his side propped up on an elbow looking down at Vash's lovely face. This woman was a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. One moment she challenged him, full of bravado and then the next moment she seemed charmingly vulnerable. She was intelligent, resourceful, vivacious, and unbelievably sexy. The combination drove him to complete distraction.

"If you want to believe that we're not getting along that's fine with me. Its . . ."

He leaned down to capture her lips with his in a gentle kiss cutting her off mid-sentence. He continued with several tentative kisses, his lips lightly teasing hers. Pulling back slightly, he broke the kiss.

As he gazed down at Vash, her smile and voice were softly coquettish, "still think I'm trouble?"

"I'm sure of it," he whispered in response as he reached out with one hand to run his fingers through her silky hair. Leaning in toward her again, his mouth settled over her full, lush lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His hand moved to cup the back of her head pulling her up into his kiss. He slipped his tongue past her parted lips to stroke and caress the warm, moist cavern of her mouth. As her lips and tongue responded to his, she slid her arms around him. Gently, he rolled her onto her back covering her body with his own. He relished the sweet scent of her perfume and the feel of her supple curves beneath him. It had been far too long and he wanted this woman. Breaking the kiss, raised up slightly to hover over her.

A rosy flush highlighted her delicate features as her eyes fluttered open. She gazed up at him and inquired breathlessly, "Are you taking me to jamaharon, Captain?"

His body responded ardently to the heat that emanated from her blue eyes. His voice was hoarse as he fought to keep his burgeoning desires in check, "now that, chere mademoiselle, is completely up to you."

"I want you, Jean-Luc."

"Jean-Luc."

Picard blinked as the sound of Vash's voice startled him out of his daydream. His eyes focused on the woman standing in front of him. The way the soft material of her sweaterdress emphasized the perfect curves of her feminine silhouette was making it difficult to pull himself back to reality--his reality. Dragging his gaze up to the delicate features of her face, he mustered his most charming smile. "I was ... lost in thought. Forgive me, Mrs. Picard."

"May I join you?" she asked quietly.

"Of course." He gestured to the chair next to his. As she set her own glass on the table and sat down facing him, he forced himself to ignore the graceful way she crossed her long legs.

"You looked as if you were a million lightyears away," she commented, sounding as innocent as possible.

"Simply lost in thought," he repeated vaguely.

The tell-tale hue of his smoldering grey eyes and his startled reaction to her voice hinted at where his thoughts had turned. Vash smiled softly. "Would you rather I guess?"

Unable to keep the color from his face, Picard responded quietly, "I was thinking of Risa and how I met my Vash."

"That was my guess," Vash replied. "It appears our timelines didn't diverge until after our little adventure with the Tox Uthat."

Picard gave her a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm acting like a complete knave. I'm surprised your husband doesn't stuff me into a torpedo tube and shoot me back to my ship."

"Nonsense," she assured him. "He is aware, as am I, that these are feelings for your own Vash that my presence is simply bringing to the surface."

"There is the possibility that your counterpart in my world might not be interested; or she may even be involved with someone else," Picard reasoned, not wanting to admit to himself just how much that possibility bothered him.

"I'm sure there have been many overtures," Vash conceded. "But, she is still unmarried."

"How do you know that?" Picard inquired, amazed.

Her smile turned wistful. "If my counterpart's experience was the same as my own, the Tox Uthat wasn't the only thing she lost on Risa. She lost her heart, and head, and fell in love with a dashing starship captain. Are you familiar with the ancient Deriben custom of Mokuda?"

"Two people, members of opposing factions, sit at a table and answer questions from each other with complete truthfulness." Picard nodded. He lifted an eyebrow. "Are you proposing a Mokuda?"

Her eyes sparkled impishly. "You must admit, it would provide each of us with an advantageous insight into the eternal battle of the sexes. If you are thinking of pursuing my counterpart, who would be better to give you such insight?"

Her idea had peaked his curiosity. "I can see the advantages in it for myself, but what's in it for you?"

"I might gleam one or two insights about my husband," she quipped conspiratorially. "But mostly, I'm just vain enough to believe there should be no universe where you actually escape my feminine wiles."

"No mere mortal male ever could," Picard retorted. Leaning back in his chair, he offered, "ladies first."

Straightening up slightly in her chair, Vash asked, "on Risa, what did you do after you took Sovak's weapon?"

"I punched him in the face," he admitted with a slightly guilty expression.

"Why? It's not exactly your usual style."

"I didn't want him following us," Picard replied. Her expectant gaze told him she knew that was only half the answer. After all, that would have given them only a ten or fifteen minute lead. "And I was really becoming annoyed by the little troll, with his crude sexual innuendoes and blatant leering at you . . . her."

"I know who you meant," Vash assured him good-naturedly. "You were already acting as her champion. Come to think of it, isn't that how poor Sir Guy bought it?"

"Precisely," Picard chuckled. "Is that how you think your counterpart would describe me, as her champion?"

Vash's voice and expression became tender and affectionate, "I think she would describe Jean-Luc Picard as a very complicated man, with many facets to his personality. There is Starfleet's legendary hero, the consummate starship captain, confident, determined, resourceful and completely in control. A man who is a born explorer and scientist, capable of becoming so engrossed in solving a mystery or problem that he has to literally be reminded to eat. Behind the legend is noble man with a gentle charm and a very quick wit. He is a passionate and demonstrative lover, whose quiet strength makes a woman feel cherished and protected."

A bit disconcerted by such praise, Picard glanced down and noticed the large diamond in her wedding band catching the light. There was something else he wanted to know. Quietly, he inquired, "does Jean-Luc Picard make a good husband?"

"He makes a wonderful husband," Vash responded sincerely. With a teasing smile, she added, "a bit high maintenance, but well worth the effort."

Picard returned her smile. "So, what would be Madame Picard's recommendations for ensnaring her counterpart?"

"Simple, the captain needs to go courting," Vash answered playfully. "I'm sure the captain of the flagship can handle dinner reservations. Sweep her off her feet. Wine and dine her. Take her dancing. Squire her to formal Starfleet social functions. Shower her with tokens of affection like jewelry, flowers, jewelry, perfume, jewelry, candy. Did I mention jewelry?"

Picard chuckled, "am I to assume my counterpart indulges your taste for the finer things in life?"

"If I have become slightly spoiled, it is the result of being the very pampered wife of an adoring husband," Vash replied, glancing at the ceiling. With a regal toss of her hair, Vash returned her gaze to the man in front of her. "And at the risk of sounding immodest, I am an important, if unofficial, extension of my husband's command. I'm the friendly, approachable face of command in social situations."

"Can Vash, I mean you, the other you, be happy with life on a starship?" Picard had always thought that Vash would get bored with him eventually. "Especially after exploring the universe with Q."

"Me, myself, and I had more than enough adventure with Q to last a lifetime. And as the Enterprises' Chief Archaeologist I have more than enough data from Federation planets and first contact races than one archaeologist could ever hope to analyze." Vash leaned across the table and cupped Picard's chin. "I can't imagine ever getting bored with my Jean-Luc."

Suddenly unnerved with how well she had read his unspoken fear, Picard straightened his uniform jacket and stood. "Yes, well, thank you for your insights. I have enjoyed our conversation, but if you will excuse me, I should get to engineering to check on Data's progress."

Vash smiled and nodded as Picard took his leave. Watching him walk across the floor she sat back, crossed her arms and said smugly, "watch out, girlfriend. Here he comes."

Seated in his own command chair back on his own ship once again, Picard watched on the viewscreen as the last section of the quantum fissure closed. "Report, Mr. Data."

"Sensors verify the quantum fissure has been sealed, sir," the android answered from his station at conn.

"Well done, Data. Please relay my appreciation to Geordi and his engineering team." Picard straightened his uniform as he stood up. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, guessing that the time must be around twenty-two hundred hours. It had taken hours to properly close the fissure after he and Data had returned to their own Enterprise.

"Aye sir," Data replied.

The captain turned to his first officer. "Number One, the bridge is yours."

"Aye, sir." Riker moved to sit down in the command chair Picard just left. "Good night, Captain."

"Goodnight, Will," Picard replied as he headed for the turbolift.

After Picard left the bridge, Riker glanced over at Deanna sitting at her station next to him. 'Imzadi,' his mind called out to hers, 'is it just me, or has the captain seemed distracted by something since he came back from the other Enterprise?'

'Not something, Imzadi.' Deanna's amused response sounded in his head. 'Someone; several times today I was buffeted by some very passionate, amorous feelings emanating from our very composed captain. I also noticed during one of the transmissions that the other Captain Picard was wearing a wedding ring.'

'I would love to know who she is,' he thought to her.

'Let's find out!' Deanna thought back conspiratorially. Looking over at the conn, she very innocently called out, "Oh Data."

As the doors to his quarters closed behind him, Picard stripped off his jacket and tossed it to a nearby chair. He had not been able to keep his mind off of Vash. He was fairly sure that Counselor Troi had picked up on his emotions. He couldn't blame an empath for detecting emotions his heart must have been broadcasting at top volume. Of course, if Deanna knew, it was a sure bet Will now knew.

Picard had to admit having a first officer and ship's counselor that were telepathically linked had been very advantageous. During rather tedious diplomatic missions, he could work two angles by simply by keeping one with him and placing the other in a favorable position. It had also added a whole new dimension to the weekly poker games. Whenever Will was on one of his lengthy winning streaks, Deanna would start sending him telepathic suggestions. Picard had no idea what these suggestions entailed, but his first officer's reactions were well worth losing a few hands for. With a smile, he got a cup of Earl Grey, took his copy of 'Ivanhoe' off the bookshelf, and stretched out on the couch to read. Within ten minutes, the captain had fallen asleep.

As he stared down at her, Vash's seductive expression and bedroom eyes caused him to forget all thoughts of just how she got into his quarters. One of her small hands rested on his shoulder as the other plucked the horga'hn statue from his grasp. Those beautiful blue eyes never left him as she nonchalantly dropped the horga'hn to the chair. He glanced down briefly when the statue hit the chair. His eyes returned to her face to find her gazing up at him through her lashes. All at once, her mouth met his in an impassioned kiss as she brought her free hand up to the collar of his uniform. Blood roared in his ears as he felt the lush fullness of her lips beneath his own. Sliding the hand on his collar over his shoulder and splaying the other hand across the back of his head, Vash pulled him even closer as she deepened the kiss. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her svelte frame, holding her tightly to him as her tongue slipped past his to ardently explore his mouth. The sweet scent of her perfume was driving him to distraction. Her body provocatively pressed into his at every point, from the softness of her breasts against his chest to the intertwining of their legs. Hungry for more of her, he deepened the kiss from passionate to fiercely ravenous. His tongue plunged past hers decisively staking claim to every corner of her mouth.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud. Picard jerked awake as the book he had been holding fell and hit the floor. He realized he must have drifted off while reading. As he bent down to retrieve the book, he shook his head. He had been dreaming about Vash, again. Deciding he could use a walk, Picard laid the book aside and grabbed his jacket as he headed out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Picard found himself in the nearly-empty forward lounge sitting across the bar from Guinan. After the last waiter left and the two of them were completely alone, she eyed him expectantly. "Well Captain, would you like to tell me about whatever has brought you to my lair?"

Picard had learned long ago that it was useless to try to hide anything from Guinan. "There is an old French saying: Le coeur a ses raisons que la raisons ne connait point."

Guinan translated, "the heart has its reasons that reason knows nothing of."

"Precisely."

She poured him a small glass of Aldeberan whiskey from her private stock. With a smile, she asked, "so Jean-Luc, who is she?"

"Vash," Picard replied as returned her smile. "Archaeology Councilmember Vash, a beautiful brunette with the most beguiling smile and blue eyes. She has a vivacious personality, a razor wit, and a keen intellect. She has earned herself a reputation as a brilliant scientist. Unfortunately, her brilliance is matched only by her brazen recklessness. The woman is fearless and stubbornly refuses to accept that there are any limitations to what she can handle. She actually went to explore the ruins on Sarthong V. Trying to talk her out of one of her escapades is an act of futility. She will listen serenely, batting huge doe eyes at you, and then go off to do precisely what she wants. She can be utterly infuriating."

As Picard took a drink of his whiskey, Guinan chuckled, "sounds a lot like me a few centuries ago. I found Sarthong V to be a very interesting place. Is there a reason why Vash has crossed your mind recently?"

"Vash has crossed my mind off and on since I met her. We've kept in touch with each other over the years. Recently, however, I can't seem to get her out of my mind. You know about the quantum fissure we just sealed." When Guinan nodded, Picard sat his drink down and continued, "in the other reality, my counterpart was married to Vash. It was obvious that they were passionately in love with each other. I had long ago resigned myself to the fact that I would simply never know the joy of that kind of love. But there, my counterpart had managed to find it and with one of the most extraordinary women I have ever met. It left me feeling as if I let the One, a Betazoid would call my Imzadi, slip through my fingers."

"Do you think she is the one, Jean-Luc?" Guinan inquired gently.

Picard's expression was wistful as he tugged on the bottom of his jacket. "I knew it when I saw the way my counterpart and his wife looked at each other as if there was no one else in the universe. I've seen Will and Deanna look at each other that way and wondered if my first officer would even notice if I called for the ship to self destruct."

"Please don't test that," Guinan quipped with a small smile.

"I won't," Picard replied good-naturedly. Looking down at his drink, his voice became slightly melancholy, "there have been other women in my life, but none of them could truly be mine. I know rumors circulated for a long time about Beverly and I. The truth is we're very close friends, but just friends. I want a woman to call my own. Beverly can never be that, her heart belongs to Jack Crusher. Almost three decades after his death, she still mourns for him. Beverly loves Jack. She always has and always will. Anyone who thinks differently is a fool. Anij belonged to the pastoral world of the Ba'ku. She could never leave her world to join me here. As far as me joining her on the Ba'ku planet, well, . . ." Picard trailed off.

"That much rest and relaxation isn't for a man like you, Jean-Luc. You need excitement," Guinan replied with a knowing smile.

Picard couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, "Vash once said the very same thing to me -- only she was commenting on my vacation plans on Risa."

"She sounds like a smart woman," Guinan commented dryly. "You've decided to go after her, haven't you?"

He gave her a small smile. "If she'll have me."

As he stood to leave, she quipped, "I'm fairly certain she will. However, if you manage to make this seem completely official it will put a whole new meaning to the term 'Picard Maneuver.'"

The next morning, Picard spent several hours at his readyroom desk tracking down Archaeology Councilmember Vash. His search led him to Starbase 86 and Professor Clarktown who was currently the head of the Archaeology Council.

"Hello Jean-Luc." Clarktown smiled into the comlink. "Please tell me you've come to your senses and you're leaving Starfleet to come work for the council."

"No, but I appreciate the offer," Picard replied. "Actually, I'm trying to locate Councilmember Vash and I was hoping you could help."

"Oh no," sighing with exasperation, Clarktown rolled his eyes. "So tell me, what minor technicality has the council's favorite problem child broken now."

"None . . . that I know of anyway," Picard reassured the Professor with a small smile. "We're friends. The Council's favorite problem child, huh? Obviously Vash has been keeping you busy."

"The woman charges at transwarp where angels fear to tread. Of course, it is very difficult to rebuke her when she keeps managing to come up with the most impressive finds. She is simply one of the most gifted field archaeologists I've ever seen. I've told her that if she would only exercise some restraint, in ten years she could have a chair at the University of her choice. Not that she listened," Clarktown explained. "So, to help her career and my blood pressure, I've decided to take advantage of the council's arrangement with Starfleet and post her on the first available starship. If that doesn't rein her in some, at least she won't be my problem."

Picard's smile widened just slightly. "This is very convenient. I just happen to have a starship and I am looking for someone to head up her archaeology lab. As one of the foremost experts in Interstellar Archaeology, Vash would definitely be an asset to the ship. I thought I was going to have to haggle with her . . ."

"But if I assign her to starship duty and you sail in with an offer to work aboard the flagship, which is a plum position, you come out smelling like a rose and my blood pressure goes down," Clarktown finished with a grin.

"Precisely." Picard nodded. "Do you know where I can find her?"

"She took one of the council's shuttles to Suvin IV," Clarktown answered.

"Suvin IV is a wonderful site. There's not much trouble she can get into there, unless she's trying to excavate the ruins in the mudworm caves," Picard noted. The Suvin mudworms were meter-long, slug-like creatures that lived in colonies in a viscous sludge they created. The animals infested the subterranean caves on the planet. The creatures were harmless, disgusting, but harmless. The electromagnetic sludge they lived in was a problem, however. It caused interference with scanning and coated everything, obscuring the cave ruins and destroying equipment.

Clarktown sighed, "that is exactly what she's trying. Vash has gotten a hold of a low intensity forcefield generator. She thinks if she plays with the field harmonics she can hold off the mudworms. I figure she'll get a few meters farther than the last two expeditions before ending up hip deep in sludge and mudworms. I'll transmit Vash's assignment to you for her signature."

"Thank you, Professor."

"You're quite welcome, Captain," Clarktown replied and then closed the channel.

Picard hit his combadge, "Number One, may I see you in my readyroom?"

"Aye, sir," Riker responded promptly.

"Number One," Picard greeted as his first officer as he entered the room.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Will. I want you to change course to Suvin IV. The Archaeology Council has decided to assign Councilmember Vash to be the new head of the Enterprise's Archaeology department. We need to pick her up there. The detour will only delay us about three hours," Picard ordered.

"Aye, Captain." Riker could not help smiling. Picard was sitting behind his desk with his usual aplomb, his hands steepled with his index fingers against his chin. Amused, Riker thought to himself, 'Vash, huh. I'll be damned. It's amazing what fate can do when it's given a very captainly shove.' What Riker said out loud was, "an actual councilmember, that's quite a coup. I'm sure you're looking forward to seeing Councilmember Vash again, sir."

"Yes, I am." Picard admitted leveling his gaze on his first officer. "In fact, I will handle the transporter room myself."

"Of course, sir." Riker figured that meant Vash had no clue about whatever the Captain and whomever he talked to on the Archaeology Council had cooked up. He had a feeling things onboard were about to get very interesting. "Is there anything else, sir?"

"No. You can return to the bridge, Will. Thank you," Picard dismissed him. After the door shut behind Riker, Picard chuckled to himself, "Because I'm sure you just can't wait to think this to Deanna."

A short time later, the Enterprise took up a standard orbit around Suvin IV. Alone in a transporter room, Picard carefully calibrated the sensors to penetrate the electromagnetic interference from the mudworms and scanned the caves. When he found Vash, she was almost ten meters past where the last expedition had gotten. The mudworms had just started to seep through the forcefield she had erected. He knew once the sludge covered her generator the forcefield would collapse and the mudworms would rapidly begin to fill the cave. Picard quickly locked on to Vash with the transporter. While beaming her aboard, he took care of two problems. First, she had a weapon that he needed to deactivate. Second, certain pieces of her equipment, including some of her clothing, were contaminated with electromagnetic dust from the caves and needed to be left in the transporter buffers.

Vash drew her phaser to burn a trench around her generator to slow the mudworms approaching it. Maybe, it would give her a few more minutes to get out. Suddenly, she felt a transporter beam envelop her. Just as she materialized, she dropped into a crouch and swiftly leveled the weapon at the chest of her abductor. Instantly recognizing the man behind the transporter console, she quickly lowered her phaser and stood up. The wave of relief that washed over her was followed closely by a tidal wave of righteous indignation. Glaring at him, she ranted, "Jean-Luc Picard, you arrogant bastard! Are you taking lessons from Q? Hell's Bells! Sometimes the only difference between the two of you is his damned parlor tricks! You scared me to death! Do you realize I could have shot you?"

Picards gaze traveled over the enchanting nymph standing before him clad only in matching brassiere and panties of white Venetian lace. That was if that itty-bitty scrap of material could actually be considered a pair of panties. His pulse quickened as his eyes drank in the shapely length of her legs and the way her lush curves appeared to overwhelm the confines of her brassiere. Picard's tone was charmingly wry as he informed her, "I deactivated your phaser during transport."

"Sonofabitch!" Vash cursed as she hurled the useless weapon at him. She took great satisfaction in the muffled grunt that escaped him as the phaser hit him squarely in the chest. Her voice was icy as she inquired, "I take it my clothes needed deactivated too, Captain?"

For the most part, Picard ignored the phaser as it hit him in the chest. His breath caught in his throat at the fire that flashed in Vash's blue eyes. She was so beautiful and her challenges always affected him like a powerful aphrodisiac. Undoing the fasteners on his uniform jacket, he stripped it off as he stepped around the console and toward her. Gallantly, he held the jacket out and offered, "please, take my jacket. I apologize. Your clothes and equipment were coated with electromagnetic dust and needed to be run through the buffers for decontamination."

"Thank you," Vash managed curtly, taking the jacket. She slipped it on, determined to ignore the inviting scent of Picard's aftershave and the comforting warmth from his body that lingered on the material. "You could have at least contacted me, before just beaming me out of there."

"There was no time. By the time I located you with the sensors, the mudworms were beginning to penetrate your forcefield. I knew you would be hip deep in them in pretty short order," Picard replied with a smile. He gestured to a nearby screen that showed the sensor readings of the now worm-filled cave and added, "If you'd like to return to the cave, I'll beam you back there. Although, it's much dryer up here and I have a proposition you might be interested in."

With her hands on her hips, Vash's eyes swept over Picard. He looked just like the last time she had seen him. The closely-trimmed, grey hair at his temples accented his handsome, chiseled features and his steel grey eyes. With his sleek muscular build and that unbelievably sexy, resonating voice, Jean-Luc Picard was pure, masculine virility. How dare he stand there looking so smug, so sexy and being so damn charming. She wasn't ready to let him off the hook just yet. Drawing herself up to her most regal bearing, she looked down at him imperiously and said in her most haughty voice, "since the worms have coated anything worth studying and I'm already here, I might as well hear you out."

"Welcome aboard the Enterprise E, Archaeology Councilmember Vash," Picard said formally as he held out a hand to help her down from the transporter pad. As she laid her small, graceful hand in his and stepped down from the pad, Picard's eyes trailed down her long shapely legs to the perfectly pedicured pink toenails. Inside, he chuckled. Only Vash would go to the mudworm caves with a fresh pedicure. Walking over to the console, he picked up a PADD that had her assignment from Professor Clartown. He handed the PADD to her. "When I spoke to him, Professor Clarktown asked me to give you this."

Vash read the document. Looking up at Picard, she sighed, "I suppose you already know that he's decided to clip my wings."

"Only because he's convinced, as am I, that you have a brilliant career in front of you, but you need to start exercising some restraint," Picard assured her gently.

For the first time since she came onboard, Vash smiled. "Restraint? This from you? I'm thinking back to the news coverage of the last battle with the Borg. They showed the new flaghip sailing into the battle and this very familiar voice boomed over the comm, 'This is Captain Picard of the Enterprise, I'm taking command of the fleet.' The whole bloody fleet! Oooh there's restraint."

"Be that as it may," Picard replied good-naturedly, trying not to ogle her like a lovesick cadet. Vash appeared even more seductive than before, with his jacket hitting her at mid-thigh, leaving her long legs exposed. The timeless eroticism of a near naked woman clothed in a single article of men's attire. "I can't change your situation, but I might be able to sweeten it for you slightly."

"Jean-Luc, you have my undivided attention."

"With a few well placed calls, I can get you on almost any ship you choose, or . . ." he trailed off.

"Or?" Vash prompted. Now, he definitely had her interest piqued.

"You can stay here. I just happen to be looking for someone to head up the Enterprise's archaeology department. As one of the foremost experts in Interstellar Archaeology, you would definitely be an asset to the ship," he offered.

"The chief archaeologist's position on Starfleet's flagship," Vash gasped in surprise. It was a hell of an opportunity. She could hardly believe her ears. Quickly, she recovered her composure. Gazing up at him coyly through her lashes, she asked, "so does this assignment come with 'fringe benefits'?"

"Fringe benefits are negotiable," he responded non-committally.

With a smile, she signed the assignment orders. "Captain, you've got a new archaeologist."

Picard went over to retrieve her weapon from the floor. "A standard Starfleet-issue Type Two phaser. I'm not going to ask where or how you got it."

"It's good enough for government work. And that's probably a wise choice on your part," Vash quipped.

"Now you'll be able to find your little pop-gun in the armory and you can sign it out to use on the firing range," he retorted. After hooking the weapon to his belt, he continued, "I'll show you to your new quarters."

"Before you do that, just two things."

"Yes?"

"The Council's shuttle?" Vash asked.

"I've already sent someone down to retrieve it," he answered, taking the signed PADD she handed to him.

Her eyes sparkled impishly as she motioned with a finger for him to come closer. He bent down slightly and she opened the jacket as she whispered, "Jean-Luc, my clothes?"

"Of course," Picard replied, slightly embarrassed. After materializing Vash's now clean clothes and equipment, he stepped out of the room to let her change. A few moments later, she stood in the doorway. Vash appeared utterly feminine dressed in khaki work shirt, pants and boots. He wondered how anyone could make khaki so sexy.

As she handed him his jacket, Vash whispered teasingly, "let's make a deal. We both have reputations to think about. If you promise not to tell anyone how you and Clarktown managed to hoodwink me, I won't tell anyone how you beamed me up in just my skivvies."

As fastened his jacket up, he whispered back, "deal."

As they made their way to Vash's new quarters, Picard noticed she was her usual amiable, vivacious self. Her brief flare of anger seemed to have completely dissipated. He had to admit the fact that she was no longer cursing him or throwing phasers at him would make it easier to court her. His voice was filled with admiration as he commented, "I have to say, almost ten meters past where the last expedition made it is a lot further than Professor Clarktown or I thought you would get. I'm looking forward to seeing your findings."

"The ruins down there are incredible, Jean-Luc. I did plaster moldings of five of the larger artifacts I found. And I even managed to collect several smaller artifacts for comparison to the other ruins on the planet. Everything is on the shuttle," Vash told him, her passion for her work was obvious.

"I'm sure the council will be delighted," he remarked.

"Clarktown hates my methods, but he loves my results. Which is probably why his problem child, as he likes to call me, ended up in your lap," she chuckled. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his step faltered just slightly. She added almost as an afterthought, "oh, by the way, thank you."

"For?"

"Beaming me up before the worms slimed me," Vash said somewhat sheepishly.

"You're welcome," Picard replied, very pleased to find out he had indeed been forgiven. Reaching Vash's new quarters, Picard opened the door and gestured for her to enter ahead of him. "These will be your quarters."

Vash gasped in astonishment as she stepped into the quarters. They were as luxurious as his had been on the Enterprise D. The far wall was lined with large oval windows. The stars outside provided a stunning back drop to the comfortably furnished living and dining areas. The spacious quarters, with its elegant decor done in soft neutral tones, left her speechless.

Indicating to a doorway, Picard informed her, "your bedroom with full bath are just through there."

"Full bath, as in bathtub?" Vash blinked in surprise. Bathtubs were a rare commodity to people who did extensive interstellar travel.

The captain knew that would get her attention. Smiling, he said, "yes. During the Enterprise E's final fittings, the two women on my senior staff greatly impressed upon me, my first officer and my chief engineer the importance of having a bathtub instead of just a shower stall. I really had no idea just how significant bubblebath's were to you ladies. I hope the quarters meet with your approval?"

"Oh yes! This is lovely and twice the size of what I had on the starbase," Vash gushed as she made her way over to a window. Looking out onto the hull, she baited him, "right side, toward the front."

"The starboard side, toward the bow," Picard winced as he corrected the terminology. Ignoring her soft giggle, he continued, "I thought you would like a view."

She turned to face him. "Windows and a bathtub. You certainly made sure everything was shipshape and Bristol fashion."

He arched an eyebrow. "How can you know that term and not know bow, stern, starboard, and port?"

"I know them. I just couldn't resist the little red button that said 'push me,' " Vash replied playfully, giving him her most devastating smile.

"Oh, I see." Emboldened by her flirtatious behavior, he continued, "the ship is scheduled to stop at Starbase 86 in four days to drop off Professor Clarktown's shuttle. That will also allow you to retrieve your personal belongings. Until then, you can replicate anything you might need. Are you involved with anyone?"

"What?" Vash muttered, taken off guard.

"It's a simple enough question, Vash. Are you seeing anyone?" Picard teased gently, staring directly into her vivid blue eyes.

"No. There's not a single, solitary swain in pursuit," Vash quipped, doing her best to sound nonchalant. As he closed the distance between them, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"There is now," his rich, gentle baritone caressed her with his response.

Vash was held by Jean-Luc's gaze, his handsome, chiseled features framing those intense grey eyes and the firm set of his mouth. Her heart raced at the thought of those lips on hers. The anticipation of his kiss alone was enough to cause butterflies in her stomach. Hungry for his kiss, her tongue darted out of its own volition, to moisten her lips.

Reaching out with one hand, Picard ran his fingers through Vash's silky hair. His hand moved to cup the back of her head, drawing her mouth to his for a deep, passionate kiss. Vash's lush, full lips trembled slightly beneath his and her arms slid around his neck as her body melted against his. The way in which her supple curves moved against him as she responded to his kiss was almost maddening. He wrapped both arms tightly around her tiny waist, suppressing the urge to explore those same supple curves.

Vash's knees gave way as Jean-Luc's muscular arms slid around her, crushing her against his powerful frame. She lost herself in the clean, masculine scent of his aftershave and the security she felt in his embrace. The butterflies in her stomach turned to shivers of desire, the sensation spreading throughout her body. He slipped his tongue past her parted lips to gently stroke and caress the warm, moist cavern of her mouth. Her entire body felt as if it were made of liquid flames. Vash arched into him feeling the entire length of his hard, muscular form against every inch of her own, quickly-overheating body. The action did more to inflame the ache building inside her rather than ease the sensations. As Jean-Luc very slowly deepened the kiss, his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth. Wanting more, she splayed her hands against the back of his head to pull him closer, tentatively nudging her tongue past his in her own erotic search of his mouth.

Blood roared in Picard's ears as Vash's lips and tongue answered the demands of his. He fought to rein in his own needs and reluctantly broke the kiss. Pulling back slightly, Picard gazed down at her. Gasping for breath, Vash's desire emanated from her eyes. Her lips were passion-swollen and a heated blush had swept up her ivory skin from beneath the collar of her shirt.

Vash was reeling, Jean-Luc's presence was playing havoc with her senses. Her heart was pounding, she was flushed and her knees felt as if they were about to buckle under her. Even through the uniform, she could feel the sinewy muscles in his arms, chest, and back. His strong arms still held her tightly against him. Her breathless whisper was tinged with a hint of amusement, "okay, so you still have a kiss that will put a knot in a girl's knickers. What is going on?"

"Have dinner with me tonight," Picard urged simply as he smiled down at her, his eyes lingering on her full inviting lips.

Brazenly, she met his gaze. "Will dinner include a Captain's tour of this Enterprise."

"Of course."

"When should I expect you?" she coyly smiled up at him.

"I'll pick you up at seven, but I really should head back to the bridge now," Picard told her. His lips captured hers in a brief kiss before he released his hold on her. As he made his way over to the door to leave, he called back, "remember you have an appointment with Dr. Crusher in an hour."

"Right." Vash replied. After the door shut behind him, she went over and flopped down on the couch. Looking up at the ceiling, she chuckled to herself, "that should be just about enough time for me to figure out what the hell happened here."

In sickbay, Vash sat on an examining table as Dr. Beverly Crusher performed the routine physical. As Crusher ran the medical tricorder over her patient, she casually remarked, "I hear you're joining our happy little family."

Vash replied with a smile, "looks that way."

"That's marvelous." Beverly returned the smile. "Jean-Luc stood me up for breakfast to spend the morning tearing the sector apart looking for you."

Before Vash could follow this up, Deanna Troi walked in. "Hi, Bev."

"Hi, Deanna." Beverly gestured to Vash. "I believe you know our new chief archaeologist, Councilmember Vash."

"Yes, of course," Deanna nodded. "Welcome aboard."

"Thank you," Vash offered her hand in greeting. "Counselor Troi isn't it?"

"Please, call me Deanna," Troi said as they shook hands.

"Vash," Vash responded in kind. Looking from one woman to the other, she added conspiratorially, "Jean-Luc has told me that we are is scheduled to stop at Starbase 86 in four days. The Starbase has some of the best shopping in the sector. As a field archaeologist, I had to keep things pretty minimalistic. Since I'll now be living on the Enterprise, I can indulge in a few luxuries. How would you two like to join me in an afternoon shopping spree once we reach the Starbase?"

Deanna agreed readily, "sounds wonderful. I'll clear my schedule that afternoon."

"So will I," Beverly chimed in. "Vash, why don't you join us for lunch and we'll plan our mission."

"I'd love to," Vash replied with a grin. "Do either of you like chocolate?"

The other two women grinned back. Deanna turned to Beverly, "This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Will Riker pulled the trombone from his mouth as the doors to his quarters opened. Deanna led Beverly and Vash into the room. As she plucked the trombone from his grasp, Deanna cooed, "hello Imzadi. I'll put your bone away for you. Good-bye Imzadi."

"Hi Will. Good-bye Will," Beverly teased as she made her way over to the replicator. "What program is it, Dee?"

"Deanna-one," Troi answered as she carefully put the trombone away in its case.

"It was nice seeing you again, Commander," Vash chimed in as she walked over and sat down at the table. She watched Beverly placing chocolate confections of every kind on the table. She looked up at Beverly with pure admiration in her eyes. "You two have this down to a fine art."

"Ladies, these are my quarters," Riker said, sounding bewildered.

"I have the better chocolate menu stored in your replicator. Bye dear." Deanna placed the last items for the chocolate fest on the table. Sitting down, she replied to Vash, "on this ship, chocolate is a serious business."

"These quarters are mine," Riker repeated, somewhat plaintively.

"So was the beard," Beverly reminded him with a wicked smile.

"Ouch Doc," Riker chuckled. "So just where would you ladies have me go."

"How about the forward lounge? I'm sure the view of eternity is lovely," Vash quipped. Beverly and Deanna burst out laughing.

"Imzadi, is there a woman in the galaxy you haven't used that line on," Deanna managed to gasp between giggles.

"Ladies, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be going now." Deciding it was time to exercise the better part of valor, Riker gave them his most charming smile and left.

"Come," Picard called as he heard the doorchime to his readyroom. He was surprised to see his first officer walk in. Cordially, he gestured to the seat in front of his desk. "Number One, I thought you were off duty."

Turning the chair around, Riker straddled it, "I am. I was in my quarters, minding my own business, playing a little on my trombone when three lovely sirens came in. Lady Deanna and Lady Beverly had with them a new recruit, Lady Vash. They chased me out so that they could overload my replicator making different forms of chocolate."

Picard leaned forward with feigned seriousness. "Commander, I've seen you face down Q, the Borg, the Cardassians, the Romulans, the Klingons, . . . and me. Are you saying that you turned tail and fled your own quarters due to those three charming ladies?"

Riker matched Picard's tone. "There are very few things in this galaxy as frightening as estrogen mixed with seventeen variations of dark chocolate."

"I see," Picard nodded sagely as he sat back in his chair.

"You don't understand, that kind of chocolate can only mean one of two things. It is either a major gripe session about a man or a significant information exchange," the first officer informed him. "I haven't screwed up in almost a month, since the dreaded parrises squares incident which was the last time I was in trouble with Deanna. So, this must be an information exchange. And I would bet my last week's poker winnings that the primary topic of discussion is -- you."

"For me to assume that I am the only thing three intelligent women have to talk about would be either extremely egotistical or completely paranoid," Picard replied with a small, self-deprecating smile.

"When everyone is out to get you, paranoia is just good thinking," Riker joked with a wry grin. "I should probably tell you that Deanna is aware that your counterpart in the other universe was happily married to Vash's counterpart."

"Really."

"Data talked. You know his favorite words should be 'Guess what,'" Riker chuckled.

"Be that as it may. I doubt Deanna would be as likely divulge that particular detail," Picard noted.

"No, she wouldn't," Riker admitted. "But, she might pose the idea that Vash is in the catbird seat."

The captain assured him, "it wouldn't change a thing, Number One. Vash perpetually behaves as if she is in the catbird seat, regardless of whether or not she actually is. But, I do appreciate the inside information."

"Seeing that the pixyish duo has now become a trio, we need to stick together or risk becoming a ship of the Valkyries." Noticing Picard's amusement at something he said, Riker asked, "what?"

"In the other universe, my counterpart referred to the three of them as the trio," Picard replied.

"So this is part of your plan?"

"What makes you think I have a plan, Will?"

"I've never known you not to have a plan," Riker responded.

"I don't want to disillusion you, but this time I'm flying by the seat of my pants," Picard confessed.

"You're braver than I thought," Riker deadpanned.

"Number One, " Picard raised an eyebrow. "I think it's time to throw a smokebomb into the henhouse."

"You threw your phaser at him?" Crusher laughed with astonishment as she picked up a fudge brownie. The doctor would have paid dearly to have been able to witness that.

"At the time, I was so pissed. After all, Jean-Luc scared me to death by beaming me up like that, without so much as a 'how do you do.' Then uber-captain had the nerve to stand there looking so insufferably pleased with himself as he explained that by the time he located me with the sensors there was no time to contact me because mudworms had begun to penetrate my forcefield," Vash chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

"You don't seem to be very upset with him at the moment," Deanna noted around a bite of double Dutch chocolate fudge ice-cream.

"Well . . . Jean-Luc did beam me out before the worms slimed me and he did ask the Council to assign me to the Enterprise. For months, Clarktown had been planning to clip my wings by reassigning me to a starship. The chief archaeologist's position on Starfleet's flagship was a fantastic opportunity, not to mention a plum assignment, and my new quarters are first class. Jean-Luc also promised to give me a captain's tour of the ship with dinner tonight." Vash rationalized letting him off the hook so quickly as her two cohorts just smiled knowingly at her. She leaned back in her chair and gazed into the distance. "Of course, he also looked like something out of Prince Valiant. Did he have to be so damn sexy, with those grey eyes, that barely-there smile and that nice, tight . . . ohhh and did I have to practically swoon when he kissed me?"

"Kissed you?" Beverly and Deanna asked in unison as they sat forward slightly in their chairs.

"After showing me to my quarters, Jean-Luc was going over some details about what was where when he bluntly asked if I was seeing anyone. I told him no and made some joke about there not being a single swain in pursuit. He lowered that voice of his to this smooth, honeyed baritone and told me, 'there is now.' Suddenly, he was kissing me," Vash explained, letting her head fall back against the chair. Closing her eyes, she thought back to his long, slow, passionate kiss.

Deanna's senses were buffeted by the strong wave of emotion that the memory provoked in Vash. Taking a deep breath to center herself, she quipped, "Whoa Nellie, that must have been some kiss."

Looking over at her, Vash saw the Betazoid's reaction. "I'm sorry, Deanna. I didn't mean to project . . ."

Deanna shook her head. "My fault. I was being too nosy and lowered my guard."

"You? Nosy? Never," Beverly teased Deanna.

"Oh this is ridiculous! One kiss and I'm all hot and bothered." Vash chuckled as she sat up in her chair. Humorously, she chided herself, "I am a grown woman and a highly respected scientist. I should not be acting like some lovesick schoolgirl with a crush on the captain of the parrises squares team. Even if the legendary Jean-Luc Picard has suddenly deemed me suitable for his attentions. And, I don't care if he commands the flagship or a whole fleet!"

"This probably isn't a good time to point out that when it's necessary, he is the one they give command of a fleet to," Deanna giggled.

"Oh my," Vash sighed.

"All of which was quite inconsequential as Jean-Luc scoured the sector looking for you this morning, Vash," Beverly observed with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Legend or not, the man is clearly pursuing you."

"You're holding the royal straight flush," Deanna added in agreement with Beverly.

Vash gave a small conspiratorial smile, "But ladies, No matter how handsome . . ."

"Chivalrous," Beverly added.

"Charming," Deanna tacked on.

"Powerful," Vash joined in.

"Sexy," Beverly offered.

"Virile," Deanna volunteered this time.

"And all around incredible my suitor might be, I cannot allow myself to be swept off my feet so easily," Vash vowed.

Beverly agreed, "absolutely. Remember, starship captains are like children, they want everything right now and they want it their way. You should make him work . . . for . . it." The Doctor's voice trailed off with an audible gasp as she stared past Vash to the coffee table in the livingroom space of the quarters.

Both Deanna and Vash followed Beverly's gaze. All three women watched with astonishment as a crystal vase filled with an opulent bouquet of long-stem red roses wrapped in a lush red velvet ribbon with an elaborate bow materialized on the coffetable. Nestled in the velvet bow was a card with Vash's name on it. Beverly got up and walked over to the flowers. Too stunned to move, Vash gasped, "there must be over three dozen roses there."

"Over four dozen. There are fifty to be precise," Beverly corrected her as she finished examining the flowers. Retrieving the card, she walked over and handed it to Vash. "They're not replicated either. They're the real thing, from the ship's hydroponics lab."

Dreamily, Vash read the card aloud, "tout a vous, cher mademoiselle. J.L."

"How about a translation for those of us who would rather not let the captain know we can't speak his native French?" Deanna requested.

As Deanna's voice pulled her from her reverie, Vash answered, "in English: At your service, dear lady."

"And this isn't sweeping you off your feet at all," Deanna prompted impishly.

Vash buried her head in her hands slightly overwhelmed. Peering through her fingers, she muttered, "chocolate, I need chocolate."

"What kind?" Beverly gestured to the table.

"Any of it. All of it," Vash replied. Taking a piece of fudge, she asked, "how did he know we were here?"

Deanna had an idea about that. "Computer, locate Commander Riker."

"Commander Riker is in the Captain's readyroom," the computer responded.

"That rat!" Beverly hissed teasingly as she took another brownie. Turning to Deanna, she added, "you will see to his punishment."

"It will be my pleasure," Deanna quipped.

"Look at it this way Vash, this is certain to be very rewarding, not to mention highly entertaining, until he catches you." Beverly smiled, turning back to Vash. Pausing a moment, she asked, "you are going to let him catch you . . . aren't you?"

"Counselor, Doctor, " Vash's eyes sparkled impishly as she motioned with a finger for both women to come closer. As they leaned in she whispered conspiratorially, "Jean-Luc had me with the words 'Welcome aboard.' The question is how long can I keep him from learning that."

Deanna matched her tone. "For pity's sake, don't tell Will."

All three women leaned back in their chairs giggling. Finally sitting up straight, Vash said, "okay that's enough about Mon Capitaine. Doc, I know on the Enterprise D you ran the ship's theater group. Do you still do that?"

"Yes." Beverly's eyes lit up as she asked excitedly, "are you interested?"

"I've been known to take to the stage from time to time," Vash nodded with a smile.

"Oh Vash, you just made her day," Deanna chuckled knowingly. Beverly was always trying to persuade her friends to perform in her productions. Now, she seemed to have a willing victim.

Shortly before seven that evening, Vash checked her reflection in the full-length, bedroom mirror for the umpteenth time. She had found a pattern for the ideal outfit in the computer, a blue-grey sweaterdress made of soft angora wool with a modestly, scooped neckline and a hemline that hit her just above the knee. The computer had replicated the dress to follow her measurements exactly. Measurements, she noted with satisfaction, that had not changed so much as a millimeter since she had first met Jean-Luc on Risa. Sheer silk stockings and blue-grey, high-heeled pumps completed her outfit. Deciding her hair and make-up were about as perfect as they were going to get, Vash dabbed a small amount of her favorite perfume behind each ear and headed out into the living room.

Vash walked over to the lavish bouquet of roses sitting on her coffee table and smiled softly as she gently stroked one of them. Looking up when she heard the doorchime, she called out, "Come."

"Hello, Vash," Picard greeted her as he stepped into the quarters. The captain's eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw Vash standing there looking exactly like her counterpart in the very same dress. Her silky, brunette hair fell gracefully to her shoulders framing her lovely features and her blue eyes sparkled as she graced him with her charming smile. Of course, this wasn't an alternate universe and this woman wasn't married to another Picard. This was his Vash or at least he hoped she would be soon. He allowed his appreciative gaze travel over the dress as it clung to the perfect curves of her feminine silhouette and then down her long, shapely legs. Returning her smile, he quoted, "I arise from dreams of thee -- In the first sweet sleep of night,"

"When the winds are breathing low, -- And the stars are shining bright," Vash finished quietly, flushing slightly at the intensity of his gaze and the warm timber of his voice. Dressed in the latest version of Starfleet's uniform, mostly black with grey shoulders and a burgundy tunic underneath, Jean-Luc looked every inch the legendary hero. Demurely averting her eyes, she idly toyed with the roses. "'Indian Serenade' by Percy Bysshe Shelley. I'm flattered."

"I can't stop thinking about you, Vash," Picard admitted as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. He tenderly cupped her chin in his hand and drew her gaze up to his. He stared down at her lovely face for a long moment, his eyes lingering on her full, inviting lips. He lowered his face until his lips were just a hairsbreadth from hers. In a rich, bedroom baritone, he whispered, "your lovely smile, the sparkle in your eyes, the delicate scent of your perfume, the sweet taste of your kiss . . ."

As his voice trailed off, Jean-Luc claimed Vash's lips with his in an impassioned kiss. Her lips trembled slightly as his tongue plunged past them, claiming everything in its path. His hand moved to the back of her head, entangling in her hair and pushing her mouth closer to his and deepening the kiss. As her tongue responded, challenging and stroking his within the moist warmth of her mouth, Vash's arms slipped around his neck. Jean-Luc had one powerful arm wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her as her body melted against his.

Picard fought to keep a tight rein on his own desires as Vash's supple curves moved against him as she responded to his kiss. He reluctantly broke the kiss, placing several tentative kisses on her passion-swollen lips before pulling back.

Vash's eyes fluttered open to gaze up at Jean-Luc. Trying to catch her breath, she gripped the hard bulge of his upper arms for balance. Just like with the earlier kiss that day, her heart was pounding, she was flushed and her knees felt as if they were about to buckle under her. She swallowed as she tried to regain her composure. Her voice was still slightly breathless as she spoke, "Jean-Luc, you have me at a disadvantage. With the exception of the occasional communiqué, we haven't seen each other in ages. Then without warning, like some interstellar knight in shining armor you ride in on this tritanium charger of yours, sweeping me up and carrying me off. And I still have no clue what's really going on."

Picard chuckled softly at her flamboyant, albeit fairly accurate, portrayal of recent events. He was reasonably certain that she would require of him a more detailed explanation than a simple 'I've decided I want you.' Which he knew Vash had figured out herself. Releasing his hold on her, he stepped back. His voice was charmingly wry as he replied, "I promise to explain everything over dinner. But first, I believe I owe you a Captain's tour of the Enterprise. Since she has twenty-four decks and is almost seven hundred meters long, we have quite a bit of ground to cover before dinner."

As Jean-Luc led her out of the cabin, Vash teased, "and that should give you just enough time to come up with your explanation."

"Our first stop, deck sixteen and main engineering," Picard informed Vash as they exited the turbolift. He guided to her down the corridor to the tall, double doors marked 'Main Engineering.' As they approached, the doors slid open and they stepped through.

Like always, main engineering was bustling with activity. Members of LaForge's staff worked around the clock to keep the flagship's massive warpcore and other ship-systems running at top efficiency. A lieutenant working near the entrance looked up to see the captain and Vash enter.

"Captain on deck!" the young man called out and snapped to attention as did every officer throughout engineering.

Vash watched with awe the swift, almost domino-like effect, of each officer taking on a formal military stance. Whistling softly, she said sotto voce to Jean-Luc, "do you have that effect on everyone?"

"An old military tradition stemming from Starfleet's naval roots," Picard explained quietly. He was slightly amused to realize that Vash truly didn't think of him as the captain of the flagship. To her he was plain, old, Jean-Luc. Raising one hand slightly, he said in his normal command tone, "everyone, as you were."

With that, the engineering staff returned to work. Picard and Vash only made it two more steps before Vash stopped in her tracks. Her eyes went wide at the sight of the ship's colossal warpcore towering to a height several decks above them.

"Oh my!" Vash gasped under her breath. Regaining her composure, she turned to Jean-Luc and added wryly, "Starfleet certainly does give you the most wonderful toys."

Before Picard could answer, a friendly male voice chuckled, "yes, they do."

"Mr. LaForge," Picard greeted his chief engineer as he approached. The captain gestured to his companion. "I believe you've met Archaeology Councilmember Vash."

With a smile, La Forge took Vash's offered hand. "Welcome aboard, Councilmember."

"Thank you, Commander," she said returning the smile as they shook hands. "But please call me Vash."

"Geordi," LaForge replied in kind. Turning to Picard, he said, "Captain, when you have a minute, I have an idea that should improve the warp drive efficiency by as much as five percent over the specs. But I want to run the changes by you first."

Before Picard could respond, Vash spoke up, "go ahead, Jean-Luc. I don't mind waiting."

"This should only take a few minutes," Picard assured her.

"If you like I can have one of my engineers show you around?" Geordi offered.

"I'd like that. Thank you." Vash nodded.

After introducing Vash to Robin Lefler and leaving the young lieutenant to conduct the tour of engineering, Picard and LaForge went into the chief engineer's office. Picard carefully studied the changes Geordi was proposing. It was rare for a chief engineer, even Geordi, to ask before tinkering with the ship's engines.

"Maybe I should've just called her Madame Picard," Geordi chuckled to himself as he gazed out his office window at Vash smiling and chatting with several of his staff.

Hearing Geordi, Picard looked up and groaned, "did Mr. Data hold a staff-meeting?"

"No sir, I was guessing. My counterpart let it slip that there was a Mrs. Picard." Geordi smiled. "But, it was her, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Geordi. It was," Picard replied genially. "However in this universe, Vash has so far only agreed to dinner. Any other speculating is jumping the gun, just a bit."

Geordi gestured out the window. "She's been on board less than twelve hours and she's already holding court out there. Look, she's even managed to put Reg Barclay at ease."

Picard looked to see Vash attentively studying readouts at one station while the normally nervous Barclay seemed completely at ease as he smiled and answered her questions. He chuckled, "she could charm a snake out of his skin."

"Or a Ferengi out of his profits," LaForge offered.

"That I've actually seen her do," Picard quipped with a smile.

"You know when you reach the bridge, you're probably going to have to let her sit in the command chair, sir," LaForge warned conspiratorially. Seeing the captain's quizzical expression, he added, "after all, Commander Riker let her sit in 'the chair.'"

"Noted," Picard replied good-naturedly. "By the way, proceed with the changes to the warpdrive and keep me advised of your progress."

"Aye, sir."

For their last stop on the tour, Picard had arranged a romantic dinner for two in a small observation lounge not far from the main bridge. He gallantly held her chair as she sat down to a dazzling display. The table was set with delicate, fine china and crystal wine goblets. A bottle of his family's finest vintage was chilling in a sterling silver ice bucket. A glimmering, lit silver candelabra surrounded by a dozen red roses made a romantic centerpiece for the scene.

"Dinner was wonderful, Jean-Luc. And, the crepes suzette was divine," Vash praised after finishing the last bite of her dessert.

"I'll be sure to tell the chef you enjoyed it," Picard replied, pleased. He gently teased her, "I chose the crepes because I thought you probably exhausted your appetite for chocolate this afternoon in your, um, 'meeting' with Dr. Crusher and Counselor Troi."

With a smile, Vash picked up her wine goblet. Sipping her wine, she gazed out through the lounge's large bay windows at the starlight. With a satisfied sigh, she confided, "a gourmet meal, fine French wine, starlight and roses; a girl could get used to this."

"A woman as beautiful as you, should be used to this," Picard said softly as he admired the lovely brunette sitting across the table from him. He caught sight of the warm blush that highlighted her delicate features as she demurely averted her eyes. Changing the subject, he asked, "so, what do you think of the Enterprise E?"

"She's magnificent. I know she's not quite as large as the Enterprise D, but she seems just as luxurious; although, she does seem to have a more military edge to her," Vash responded as she set down her wine glass.

Picard nodded. "A result of the war with the Dominion and . . . the Borg."

Hearing the heaviness in his words, especially the last two, Vash reached across the table tenderly laying her hand across his. He had finally defeated the Borg, but at a very high price. Some of the torture he had suffered at the hands of the Borg had become public knowledge.

"Chere," he murmured gratefully, seeing the concern in her eyes. He brought her small hand up brushing a gentle kiss across the back of it.

Deciding to lift the mood, Vash squeezed his hand slightly and gave him a mischievous smile. "Well, I'm sure the sight of this baby bearing down is enough to put the fear of God back into any uppity Romulan."

"I must admit the sight does tend to cause hostile forces to reconsider the wisdom of an aggressive act," he remarked dryly.

Vash released Jean-Luc's hand and picked up her wineglass to take another sip. Regarding him meaningfully, she teased, "so, have you decided on your wonderful explanation for why I'm here or should I continue with the small talk?"

"I . . .uh . . . I suppose I do owe you an explanation," Picard began as he tugged at the bottom of his uniform jacket. Vash set down her goblet and crossed her arms over her chest. Leaning back in her chair, she gazed at him expectantly. He asked, "are you familiar with the theory of the 'Sum over histories?'"

Vash nodded. "Everything that could happen does happen in different quantum realities."

"Precisely. Several days ago the Enterprise was sent to close a quantum fissure, which can act as a keyhole between quantum realities. When we arrived we did indeed find a tear between our reality and one other. On the other side of the tear was the Enterprise from that reality. Fortunately, that quantum reality was very similar to this one and we were able to work together to close the fissure. Of course, we were very fortunate that there was only one other reality. It might have been much more difficult had there been multiple realities to deal with," Picard rambled uncharacteristically.

"Jean-Luc, does this train of thought have a caboose?" Vash inquired solicitously.

"Getting right to the point, while working with him, I noticed slight differences between my counterpart and myself. My counterpart was particularly relaxed, contented, and happier than I've ever been," Picard explained. His voice turned almost wistful, "Differences that were due solely to a wonderful marriage and a very lovely wife."

"So, who was the lucky lady?" Vash prompted as her eyes met his. He graced her with one of his barely there smiles, tender affection filling his grey eyes. As she finally put the pieces together, her breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped a beat. Taken completely off guard, she stood up and walked over to the window. Gazing out at the stars, she quietly confided, "leaving with Q was a much worse mistake than I realized."

"The relationship didn't become serious until after my counterpart took command of that Enterprise E," Picard corrected as he made his way over to stand behind her. Somewhat sheepishly, he continued, "when your counterpart was brought onboard to head up that ship's archaeology department."

"I'm flattered. It's not like you to so blatantly exercise R.H.I.P," Vash voiced her surprise at realizing Jean-Luc had set out to purposely create the same conditions in this quantum reality. She glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. At his questioning expression, she elaborated, "Rank Hath Its Privileges."

"I'm not above pulling rank if I feel something is important. Back on Risa you once said we would make a wonderful team. You were right. I knew it when I saw how much in love my counterpart and his wife were. They looked at each other in a way I envied. I wanted the chance to find that kind of happiness. . . with you." Picard's rich baritone emphasized his impassioned appeal.

The realization of just how serious Jean-Luc was about her had sent Vash reeling. He wanted to pursue something long-term, even permanent with her. Turning around to face him, she reached up with one hand to gently trail her fingertips over the strong, square lines of his jaw. "Jean-Luc, I adore you. Still, are you sure this is a realistic goal you've set yourself. I mean, there are reasons, many reasons, why Professor Clarktown calls me the Council's problem child. I'm impulsive, insubordinate, undisciplined, unruly, reckless and rash. My methods are considered somewhat unorthodox, to put it mildly. And, I don't follow orders."

"You're also intelligent, earning yourself a reputation as a brilliant scientist, resourceful, vivacious, and unbelievably attractive," Picard stated candidly, enjoying the feel of her fingertips brushing over his jaw. Again, he noticed how she blushed slightly at his praise.

"Have you considered the possibility that my counterpart may have been slightly more domesticated than myself ?" she asked as her hand fell to rest on his broad shoulder.

He chuckled, "from what I was told, after the battle with the Borg, when they tried to assimilate the Enterprise, your counterpart managed to save herself, her staff and the rest of the civilian scientists onboard. She hot wired and stole the Captain's yacht, flying all of the civilians to the dark side of the moon to hide."

"All right, that does sound a lot like something I would do," she conceded with a small smile, before adding, "but that doesn't exactly sound like a proper captain's wife."

"Someone recently described a captain's wife as being the friendly, approachable face of command in social situations. During your tour this evening, I noticed how effortlessly you filled that role," he noted, his voice filled with admiration.

"I believe you once said I was out of my mind for planning a trip to Sarthong V. That trip was nothing compared to some of the places I went right after I finished my graduate degrees," Vash countered.

"I would be the last person to comment on anyone's impetuous youth." Picard's expression became slightly self-deprecating. Seeing the confusion in her face, he explained in a good-natured tone, "just days after graduating from the Academy at the top of my class, I started a barroom brawl with three rather large Nausicaans over a rigged dom-jot game. One of them stabbed me in the back with a rather nasty looking knife. And ever since the tender age of twenty-one, I've been the proud owner of an artificial heart. Top that one, petite amie."

Completely stunned, Vash glanced down as she brushed her fingers over his chest where his heart should be. Returning her hand to rest again on his shoulder, Vash pursed her lips before quietly admitting, "I can't."

"I didn't think so," he chuckled softly as his eyes drank in the sight of her lovely face with her blue eyes, fine cheek bones and full, rose-petal lips.

For a long moment, Vash was held by Jean-Luc's gaze, his handsome, chiseled features framing those intense grey eyes. She felt her breath catch in her throat from the sexual charge that passed between them. There was a slight tremor in her voice as she searched his face for reassurance, "Jean-Luc, for the last time, are you sure this is what you want?"

"Oui, chere mademoiselle. With all my heart," Picard pledged in a deep, resonating whisper. Spanning her small waist with his hands, his lips sought hers in an effort to express his feelings when words failed. The subtle, provocative scent of her perfume along with the feel of the soft angora of her dress beneath his fingertips stirred his senses. His tongue slipped out to trace her luscious, full lips, moistening them erotically. His questing tongue coaxed her lips apart and snaked in to caress the warm moist cavity. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her delicate frame tightly against him.

Vash felt as if every bone in her body had melted. She wanted more and deepened the kiss, nudging her tongue past his in her own erotic search of his mouth. As her arms came up to encircle his neck, she lost herself in the strength of his arms and his clean, masculine scent.

Picard slid his mouth from hers, moving to explore the soft skin of her neck. As he nuzzled the skin under her earlobe, he murmured, "may I?"

The timbre of his bedroom baritone reverberated against the tender skin of her neck. The sensation sent shivers of desire racing along her spine. Vash's head rolled back as she sighed, "yes."

"Is that yes to my question or to this?" he rasped, taking advantage of her bared throat to trail heated kisses over the sensitive area.

"Anything, everything," Vash responded breathlessly.

Picard needed to hear something more. He pulled back slightly and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "May I court you, mademoiselle? May I put all your concerns to rest and show you how good we can be together, forever?"

Vash bit her swollen lips and met his steel-grey gaze. She nodded wordlessly, not trusting herself to answer aloud.

Elated by her response, Picard slid one arm up to entangle his hand in the silky hair at the back of her head. Once again, his mouth found hers for a long, deep kiss. Reluctantly, he broke of the kiss, placing several tentative kisses on her lush lips. He pulled back slightly, his hands gently resting on her hips. As Vash's eyes fluttered open to gaze up at him, Picard smiled. He teased, "I have it on very good authority that I will make a wonderful husband."

Vash's hands moved to the charcoal-grey shoulders of his uniform. Captivated by the breadth of his broad shoulders under her tiny hands, she bantered back, "that authority being?"

"You . . . well . . .your counterpart actually," he admitted, his tone charmingly wry.

Letting one hand slide down, her fingers traced leisurely circles around the rank pips on his burgundy uniform tunic. Vash coyly looked up at him through her lashes. "Jean-Luc, I have a feeling that you and I have been set up."

"By whom, chere?" Picard asked, sounding slightly confused. The impish sparkle in her blue eyes along with the feel of her graceful fingers playing with the rank pips on his collar was driving him to distraction.

"By you and I."

Nearly six weeks later, Vash finished placing a various assortment of chocolate concoctions on the dining table of her quarters. She turned to the dining chair next to her, sitting in it was a large, stuffed teddybear with a huge red bow around his neck. Picking up the teddybear and taking him over to the couch, she laughed as she set him down, "sorry, J.B., but you're going to have to move over here for now."

The door chime rang announcing the arrival of her cohorts for the weekly afternoon chocolate fest. Vash called, "come in."

Beverly and Deanna walked in and the three friends sat down to a banquet of intergalactic chocolate treats. Getting right to the important stuff, Beverly picked up a fudge brownie and asked, "so how was date night?"

"Yeah, what did he come up with this time?" Deanna chimed in around a bite of chocolate. Between starbases, Picard had been entertaining Vash with different holodeck programs.

"It was delightful," Vash told Beverly. Glancing at Deanna, she added, "and you'll never guess."

"Dinner on the Orient Express, club hopping along Bourbon Street in New Orleans, or a walk down the Champs Elysees," Deanna tossed out several ideas.

"No." Vash shook her head.

"A tour of his favorite hot spots on Wrigley's Pleasure Planet," Beverly teased with a wicked smile.

"No, but that would have definitely been informative," Vash chuckled.

"I can't even imagine the captain on Wrigley's Pleasure Planet," Deanna remarked taking a bonbon.

"I can," Vash and Beverly said in unison.

"Seashore picnic on Pacifica," Deanna tried again.

"No," Vash answered.

"Well?" Beverly asked expectantly.

Deanna was more to the point. "Tell us."

"Coney Island," Vash replied as she took a piece of fudge.

"The amusement park?" Beverly questioned, sounding slightly surprised.

Vash nodded. "At the height of its popularity during the early twentieth century."

"That sounds fairly whimsical for someone like the captain," Deanna noted, before taking another bite of chocolate.

"I'll admit it was pure, unadulterated fun," Vash told them. "Jean-Luc started the program with it just past dusk on a summer evening. We feasted on coneys, fresh lemonade and salt-water taffy. We walked along the midway under all the lights, had our fortunes told and Jean-Luc won me a teddybear, which he had the computer replicate. He halted the program while we were on the Ferris wheel. We spent at least a half an hour at the top of the Ferris wheel necking like a couple of teenagers."

"Is your new friend over there the teddybear in question?" Deanna indicated to the teddybear on the couch.

"That's J.B." Vash nodded.

"J.B.?" Deanna asked.

"I named him Johnny Bear, J.B. for short," Vash said with an impish smile.

"Johnny's missing something," Beverly chuckled, as she got up and headed over to the replicator. Blocking their view she added, "now, no peeking."

Deanna and Vash busied themselves with different types of chocolate as Beverly made her way over to the couch and sat down with the teddybear. Both women burst out laughing when Beverly held up the teddybear, red bow gone and now dressed in a Starfleet uniform. With a huge grin, Vash approved whole heartedly, "that's perfect, Beverly."

Later that week, Vash, Picard, Data, Geordi, Beverly, Deanna and Will were all gathered in the first officer's quarters for the senior officer's poker game. The Enterprise had just left Starbase 515, where Vash, Deanna and Beverly had spent the better part of the day on another one of their marathon shopping sprees. Riker contemplated the mountain of shopping bags and packages piled on his couch wondering how many of them belonged to Deanna. His eyes still on the heap of purchases, he commented dryly, "ladies, the Enterprise wasn't meant to be a personal coach to ferry you from planet to planet as you go mall hopping through the galaxy."

"Now that, Imzadi," Deanna replied sitting down next to him, "depends on who you ask."

"And how you ask," Vash quipped with an arched eyebrow as she set down a cup of Earl Grey in front of Jean-Luc and gracefully slipped into the chair next to his.

"Here's an interesting thought, ladies," Beverly offered, taking her seat. "If we could go to any single planet to shop, which one would it be?"

The women contemplated for a moment before all three answered in unison, "Earth."

"London, Milan, Paris . . ." Deanna began.

"New York's Fifth Avenue, Los Angeles' Rodeo Drive . . ." Beverly continued.

"Actually, my favorite spot is that 'Magnificent Mile,' Michigan Avenue in downtown Chicago." Vash smiled impishly. "Where else can you shop till you drop at places like Tiffany's, Cartier, Sak's, Marshall Fields and then walk a few blocks to get an original Chicago-style, deep-dish pizza."

"High-powered shopping with an attitude," Beverly laughed.

"Nothing like it,"Vash quipped.

Looking from Picard to Riker, Geordi joked, "wasn't there a time when men played poker in cigar-smoke filled rooms while drinking whiskey?"

"I doubt that would be much of a deterrent to the three ladies seated here," Picard deadpanned. With a slightly raised eyebrow, he added, "although, as I understand it, the counselor's preferred poison is tequila."

"I was simply following orders to find Dr. Cochrane and the man wouldn't even talk to me unless I had a drink with him," Deanna said with an indignant toss of her hair. She turned to look at Will, who was doing his best to suppress a grin. "Don't you ever edit your reports?"

"Don't take it personally, girls." Vash picked up the deck of cards in front of her and began shuffling them with the style of a Las Vegas blackjack dealer. "The boys are just upset because they lost their collective shirts to us last week."

Glancing over his shoulder at the collection of packages on the couch, Picard retorted, "and still you felt the need to buy more."

"But we didn't have anything to go with it, Jean-Luc. We had to accessorize," Vash replied sweetly with a smile. Beginning to deal the cards, she called, "The game is five card stud, nothing wild."

Two hours later, the group took a break between hands to stretch their legs. Vash offered to help Deanna with replicating snacks for everyone. Both women were dressed in fitted denim jeans paired with smartly tailored blouses, Vash's was white and Deanna's was mauve. Standing off by himself, Picard allowed his eyes to discreetly sweep over Vash. He noticed the teasing way her jeans followed every curve of her shapely figure and muttered to himself, "denim should be outlawed."

While admiring Deanna from a similar angle, Riker stepped up next to the captain. Overhearing Picard, he retorted quietly, "do and I'll mutiny."

With a self-deprecating chuckle, Picard replied, "we should be ashamed of ourselves, ogling them like this."

"Oh we're not ogling - cadets ogle," Riker corrected with a lopsided grin. "We are simply appreciating the natural beauty of the female form."

Picard looked at his first officer out of corner of his eye and deadpanned, "Number One, I've worked with you for over a decade and I still have no idea how you come up with this stuff."

Riker spread his arms and shrugged humbly, "it's a gift."

As the group returned to their seats, Beverly glanced over at Vash. "Well, do I have my Nellie Forbush?"

"Yes, Doc. I'll play her," Vash chuckled. "But, you do realize this will add a humorous undercurrent that Rogers and Hammerstein never intended."

"I'm counting on it." Beverly grinned back impishly.

"I'm afraid I'm missing something. What humorous undercurrent?" Picard asked, slightly wary. He knew both women well enough to be alarmed by their mischievous tones.

Vash raised an eyebrow at him. "Jean-Luc, think about the plot of 'South Pacific.' "

"A naval battle in the Pacific theatre during World War II, I'm still not seeing a connection." Picard picked up his tea to take a drink.

"The main story is a romance between a young nurse, Nellie Forbush, and a plantation owner." Beverly began.

Vash jumped from her chair to pace the room with her hands clasped to her chest and, in a somewhat melodramatic fashion. "And, we have a lot of fighter pilots over in the ward. And they keep talking about a Frenchman, the Frenchman said this and the Frenchman said that. And, I was just wondering if the Frenchman they're talking about could be . . ." At this point, Vash paused and, for effect, leveled her gaze at Jean-Luc. "My Frenchman."

Between giggles, Deanna and Beverly applauded the performance. Geordi and Riker were barely able to suppress their own chuckles at the sight of the captain rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Data blinked as he accessed the appropriate files. "Processing, South Pacific: the story of a romance between a young nurse and an older Frenchman who owns a plantation on the island. The humorous irony of Vash playing the lead female role given her current personal situation. Quite amusing, Doctor."

Sitting back down in her seat, Vash teased Jean-Luc, "it's sad when Data gets the joke before you do."

Before the captain could defend himself, Deanna piped up, "Bev, next maybe you can talk her into playing Guinevere in Camelot. 'Then You May Take Me To The Fair' would be a riot."

In a voice that rivaled Julie Andrews, Vash sung, "and I'm convinced that splendid Frenchman could easily conquer one and all. And besting all our local henchmen, he should sit beside me at the ball."

With a small groan, Picard lamented, "ladies, I'm sure there has been a play or musical written somewhere in the galaxy that does not have a Frenchman in it."

"We could always do 'The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas,' " Beverly suggested innocently.

"No!" Picard exclaimed as he nearly spilled his tea.

"Well, I guess that means 'Oh Calcutta' is definitely out," Vash quipped.

Several days later, Vash and Jean-Luc had just finished a quiet, romantic dinner for two in Vash's quarters. As she cleared the table, she inquired, "so, if you don't mind me asking, just what is a 'Command Conference?'"

Sitting down, Picard tugged on the bottom of his uniform jacket and leaned back into the couch. "A four day long colossal waste of my time that serves no purpose but to make a few Admirals and the local potentate in question feel like they've accomplished something."

"Don't mince words, Jean-Luc," Vash chuckled. "How do you really feel?"

With a sigh, he explained, "Command Conferences began during the Dominion War as a way to help Starfleet's commanding officers stay in direct contact with each other and, during the war, they were very helpful in that respect. However, since the Dominion Forces have retreated back to the Gamma Quadrant leaving Cardassia in ruins, the conferences have outlived their usefulness."

"But, you're going," Vash noted.

"Since Admiral Nakamura, who commands Starbase 219 and is hosting this conference on the nearby planet of Yegara, knows that the Enterprise has nothing pressing, I'm trapped," Picard grumbled. He watched as Vash crossed the room toward him, carrying two glasses of wine. Tiny pearl buttons ran down the front of her soft, lavender sweater following the perfect curves of her feminine silhouette to her tiny waist. The asymmetrical hemline of her full, lavender, taffeta skirt accentuated her long, shapely legs. An air of femininity enveloped her as she walked, or more accurately sashayed, across the room. With a smile, he marveled, "Vash, you are the only woman I know that looks like she's dancing when she's simply trying to walk across a room."

"There is an explanation for that," Vash cooed with an enigmatic smile. "But, you changed the subject. We were talking about the conference."

"I've already packed my bags and put them in the Captain's yacht for tomorrow morning's departure because the last thing I want to think about tonight is the conference or leaving you for the next four days," Picard replied in a rich, gentle baritone. Patting the cushion next to him, he added, "come here."

Vash placed the wineglasses down on the coffee table and sat down next to him. As she snuggled up against him, he wrapped one strong arm around her waist pulling her even closer. Resting her head back against his shoulder, her fingers idly traced the burgundy piping on the cuff of his jacket sleeve. "I have to admit, it'll be a little strange. I've never been on the Enterprise without you being onboard. Even when we go the whole day without seeing each other, I know you're there. I can hear you give orders over the comm or get your location from the computer. I know I can always call up to the readyroom, or even better, sneak up to the readyroom to talk to you."

Picard kissed the top of her head, savoring the sweet scent that always lingered in her silky, brunette hair. He murmured, "does that mean you're going to miss me?"

Vash sighed, her voice tinged mild amusement, "I love you, Jean-Luc. Of course I'm going to miss you."

Those first three words hit Picard like a lightning bolt. Knowing his own heart's desire, he had been holding himself back for weeks, waiting for her to say those words. Vash had spoken them so naturally, so instinctively, that he wasn't sure if she even realized she had uttered them. Pulling back, he turned to sit facing her. His heart pounded in his chest and his voice was barely audible, "say that again."

"I'm going to miss you," She replied softly as she raised her face to his.

Picard shook his head. "No, before that."

Vash had never felt about any man the way she did about Jean-Luc. She loved him. Suddenly, she realized she had voiced her feelings. She gazed up into the handsome chiseled features framing his intense steel-grey eyes. Held captive by the ardent emotions emanating from those eyes, Vash's voice quavered slightly, "I love you, Jean-Luc."

"Je t'aime," Picard rasped fervently, cupping her face with his hands, his thumbs resting against the base of her chin, forcing her head back. His mouth descended on hers in a fiercely ravenous kiss. His tongue plunged between her parted lips greedily laying claim to everything in its path as he released the tight rein he had held on his own needs. He nearly gave in to the urge to take her right there on the couch.

As his mouth took command of hers, Vash's hands came up to clutch his broad shoulders for balance. She felt the soft cushions give way beneath her as she laid back, Jean-Luc moving over her, covering her body with his own. The very masculine combination of his clean-scented aftershave and the slight taste of fine wine in his kiss inflamed her own increasing desires.

"Je t' adore," Picard murmured as he slid his mouth from hers, moving to tenderly feast on the soft skin of her neck.

"I love you." Vash gasped mindlessly as her head rolled back baring her throat to the onslaught of his hot, questing mouth.

"Again, ma amie," Picard urged as his mouth reached the hollow of her throat. Feeling her rapid pulse against his lips, he flicked his tongue against the pulse point even more briskly. He delighted in the ragged sound her breath made as she inhaled sharply.

"I love you, Jean-" Vash echoed breathlessly, breaking off as his passionate assault intensified.

Suddenly, there was a piercing chirp from Picard's communicator. To her credit, Vash was able to suppress her groan of frustration, which was more than could be said for Picard. As he lifted himself up onto his elbows, the captain looked down at the beautiful woman he had pinned to the couch beneath him. His voice was hoarse with frustration as he raised an eyebrow and joked, "Someone better be dead."

Picard sat up and took several deep breaths to center himself. Tapping his communicator, his tone was professional but brisk, "Picard here."

"Admiral Haden here, Captain. I hope I didn't get you at a bad time, Jean-Luc."

Sitting up, Vash brushed her skirt down to a marginally respectable position. It was obvious from Jean-Luc's expression that he had momentarily forgotten the admiral was onboard. Running her fingers through her hair, Vash watched amused as Jean-Luc rolled his eyes and politely lied through his teeth. "Of course not, Admiral. What can I do for you?"

"Admiral Nakamura has moved the opening of the conference up and we will need to leave ASAP," Haden replied.

"The yacht is ready for departure, sir, but the pilot . . ." Picard began.

"Has been notified and will meet us at the yacht," The admiral informed him. "You have twenty minutes, Captain. Haden out."

"Damn," Picard swore under his breath as he stood up and paced a couple of steps tugging on his uniform jacket. He felt like an adolescent caught necking with his girlfriend on his parent's couch. Turning around, his eyes swept over Vash seductively sprawled across her couch with her slightly tousled dark hair framing her delicate features, passion swollen lips and her vivid blue eyes. Giving her a small smile, he lamented in a charmingly wry tone, "with no real crucial matters to cover at this conference, I will most likely spend the next four days preoccupied thinking about you."

"Will you be thinking about hearing me say I love you?" Vash inquired sweetly, gracefully rising from the couch and walking toward him. His barely there smile did nothing to hide the carnal heat still reflected in his steel-grey eyes. She reached up and splayed her small hands across the hard expanse of his chest. Slowly sliding her hands up his chest to his broad shoulders, she savored the feel of the powerfully corded muscles contained in his uniform. Staring directly into his eyes and feeling deliciously brazen, she pressed herself against him, molding the soft curves of her body to his hard lean one. She continued in a lascivious, bedroom voice, "or will you be thinking about my heated whisper rasping in your ear, 'Ohhh Jean-Luc!'"

"Both," Picard groaned. His arms encircled her waist and he yanked her roughly against him. His mouth descended on hers in a savage kiss. His tongue plunged past her parted lips ravaging every corner of her mouth. She wound her arms around to splay her hands against the back of his head to pull him closer. He deepened the kiss as her soft moan of surrender drove his urgency up another notch. Finally, he made himself break the kiss. Pulling back slightly, he rasped, "Chere, you are aware there is a name for this kind of behavior."

"Fun?" Vash gasped. She knew he was leaving for a few days and that she was being a merciless tease. But, she just couldn't seem to help herself. The very idea that she could effect him this way gave her a heady sensation of power.

"I do have to go," he sighed with regret letting go of her and stepping back.

"I know," she answered simply. She interlaced her fingers with his and, hand in hand, walked him to the door. Releasing his hand, she reached up to brush her fingers across his cheek. "Godspeed, my love."

"I'll be back before you know it," Picard told her, capturing her lips with his in a quick, romantic kiss before he left.

After the door closed behind him, Vash sighed and leaned back against the wall. Noticing the couch, she though about the sight they must have made. They must have looked like a couple of randy teenagers making out in the back of a shuttle. 'Now there's an idea. I wonder if Jean-Luc has thought of that?' She smiled to herself. 'If he hasn't, he certainly will in the next few hours while trapped on that shuttle.'

Feeling very pleased with herself, Vash began to clean-up and prepare for bed.

Vash sat at the desk in her office sharing morning coffee with Deanna. The last four days had seemed to drag on interminably. She leaned back in her chair and sighed, "I wonder if we've entered orbit around Yegara yet?"

Deanna smiled over her own cup of coffee and teased, "that's the fourth time in the last ten minutes you've asked. If you're not careful, someone's going to think you're missing the captain."

"Maybe . . . just a little," Vash coyly bantered back just as her office door chimed. "Come."

"Hi. I thought you'd like to know we entered orbit around Yegara five minutes ago," Beverly called out walking in the room. Holding up an envelope and small package she was carrying she continued, "and Vash, these were beamed up for you from the surface."

"Thank you, Bev," Vash took the envelope and package. Opening the envelope, her eyes sparkled as she read the note inside.

"Well . . ." Deanna prompted, sensing Vash's sudden excitement.

"It's an invitation to the Chancellor's Palace tonight for the formal reception ending the Command Conference,"Vash replied.

"It appears that a certain captain didn't want to wait a minute longer than he absolutely had to before seeing you," Beverly remarked sounding amused.

Deanna winked at the doctor. "Trust me, Beverly, the feeling is very mutual. I was beginning to wonder if she was going to call the bridge and ask just when they were planning on getting around to entering orbit."

"Have I really been that bad this morning?" Vash let her head fall to her desk.

"So, what are you going to wear?" Beverly asked as she got herself a cup of coffee from the replicator.

Looking up, Vash thought for a minute. "The gown I bought when the three of us went shopping on the last starbase."

"Nice choice." Beverly approved completely. "That little number is sure to knock him on his brass."

"He's been a good captain, a very nice boss. Please don't get him court-martialed for ravishing you on the dance floor in front of all those stodgy, old admirals," Deanna lamented playfully.

"Killjoy," Vash retorted.

Impatience was getting the best of Beverly as she pulled up a chair. "Would you just open the gift, already?"

Unwrapping the package, Vash's heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the markings on the long, velvet jewelry box. She murmured, "this is from Yegara's premier jeweler."

"Our captain has taste," Deanna noted as Vash opened the box.

"Very expensive taste," Vash breathed in awe at the sight of the beautiful heart-shaped locket. Set with a half-carat diamond in the center, the elegant locket and its chain were crafted from the finest gold-pressed latinum. Her hands shook as she lifted the piece from the box for a closer look. So mesmerized by the gift, Vash wasn't even aware of her friends' ooh's and ahh's of appreciation. She stammered, "it's so unbelievably beautiful. Somehow, he always manages to amaze me."

"It's breathtaking," Deanna gushed. Turning to Beverly, she added, "this was a four day conference. Can you imagine what he'll send her the first time he's sent off ship on an actual mission?"

"The Earth, moon, and stars," the Doctor quipped. "Vash, there's an inscription on the back."

Vash turned the locket over. Her eyes welled up with tears and there was a tremor in her voice as she read the inscription, "je t' aime, J.L."

"Even I love you sounds better in French," Beverly sighed. Setting down her coffee, she urged, "put it on and see how it looks."

"This is so silly, but I can't seem to stop shaking," Vash admitted, overwhelmed by her feelings. Standing up, her fingers fumbled with the clasp.

"Here, let me help," Beverly offered, as she moved to stand behind Vash.

"I do love him, Bev," Vash admitted softly as she handed the necklace to her.

"I know," the doctor assured her as she fastened the necklace around Vash's neck. "it's obvious. The way you two look at each other reminds me . . .reminds me of Jack and myself years ago."

"Beverly . . ." Vash heard the slight catch in the doctor's voice and turned around to face her.

"It's all right," Beverly interrupted. Wiping a stray tear from the younger woman's cheek, she continued, "just promise me that you'll hang onto him tightly. That kind of love happens only once in a lifetime."

Before Vash could respond, her office door chimed. She called out, "come."

"Hello, ladies," Will Riker said as he stuck his head in the door. "Deanna, Beverly, we have a staff meeting in fifteen minutes."

"Of course, Will," Deanna replied standing.

"Am I interrupting something?" Riker asked Deanna.

"No, Imzadi. Captain Picard is just once again demonstrating how to separate the men from the boys." Deanna teased, patting Riker on the shoulder.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm badly represented in that remark?" Riker joked as Deanna and Beverly began to steer him out of Vash's lab.

"Hey Doc," Vash called. When Beverly turned back around at the door, Vash told her, "I promise."

"Good girl. Now, take the rest of the day off. Doctor's orders." Beverly smiled mischievously. "As soon as the staff meeting's over, Dee and I will meet you in your quarters. Cinderella, it's time to get ready for the ball."

A native stone that resembled pink marble made up the high gloss floor, ceiling, walls and spiraling columns of the enormous reception hall of Yegara's Chancellor's Palace. At one end was a grand staircase coming down from the palace's entrance hall. At the other end of the room was a towering water fountain that was at least two stories high. The strains of a full orchestra combined with conversations of the guests, mostly Starfleet personnel with a few civilian guests among them. Picard was standing with Captain Morgan Bateson, who commanded the U.S.S. Bozeman. Originally from the twenty-third century, Bateson and the crew of the Bozeman had entered the twenty-fourth century after being caught in a temporal causality loop for close to ninety years. Picard and the Enterprise D had been instrumental in breaking the loop and the two captains had been friends ever since.

Surreptitiously tugging at the tight collar on the white dinner jacket of his dress uniform, Picard grumbled, "as if the uniform wasn't uncomfortable enough, who the hell suggested we should wear our medals?"

"That would have been Edward Jellico. He probably thought that with three rows he would have more than anyone else. He looked quite crestfallen when you walked in with four, my friend," Bateson noted, indicating to the four rows of ribbons above the gold piping and communicator on the left side of Picard's chest. Giving Picard a meaningful look, he added, "and you didn't even put all of yours on, did you?"

Shaking his head, Picard leaned in and replied in a confidential tone, "I decided to stop with the fourth row. The fifth row seemed a bit . . . garish."

"That's one thing about this century I'll never get used to, a modest captain of the Enterprise. Modesty was never one of Jim Kirk's virtues," Bateson chuckled. "Which reminds me, how is that archaeologist friend of yours that you introduced me to when our ships rendezvoused a couple of weeks ago?"

Picard smiled. "Vash is fine. In fact, she should be here anytime now. But, Morgan, how do you make the leap from James Kirk to Vash."

"Oh, headstrong, impetuous, daring, stubborn, ... I think going from James T. Kirk to that pretty brunette of yours is a very legitimate leap," Bateson justified with a grin. He looked over at the staircase. "Speak of the angel, herself."

Turning to see Vash poised at the top of the staircase, Picard found himself completely captivated by the raving beauty. Her elaborately beaded white and gold gown molded itself like a second skin to her curvaceous silhouette as it skimmed her body to fall to the floor. A provocative amount of her décolletage spilled over the glittering gown's plunging halter neckline. The delicate features of her face were perfectly framed by her hair which was swept up into a cascade of soft curls held in place by a sparkling clip that matched her dress. The elegant locket hung from her neck and a pair of long, white satin gloves encased her slender arms. The slit that ran up the front left side of the gown's skirt parted to reveal a long, supple length of leg from her hip to her gold, stiletto-heeled shoe with each step as she gracefully descended the staircase. Several young men, most of whom had gained their first command during the Dominion War, moved to greet Vash at the foot of the staircase. Picard raised an eyebrow. "Like bees to honey."

As the two seasoned captains watched from across the room, one brash young captain stepped out front to gallantly offer his hand to help Vash with the last step. With a serene smile, she accepted his offer and stepped off the staircase. Leaning into Picard, Bateson noted quietly, "Captain Juan seems to have targeted your lovely lady friend."

Vash's reactions were cordially polite as Juan and his cohorts endeavored to impress her. Even from across the room, it was obvious the young knave and his friends were getting nowhere. Amused by the scene, Picard replied with a quiet chuckle, "you know that and I know that. But, Juan doesn't know that."

"Jean-Luc, you're enjoying this. It's not like you to tease and torment the youngsters," Bateson accused with a grin.

"Builds character," Picard quipped in his own defense. As Vash turned to face one of her admirers, the flagship captain was greeted to his first glimpse of the back of her gown, or lack thereof. Falling from just below the small of her back, the elegant gown bared her creamy, ivory skin, the feminine curve of her shoulders and the graceful arch of her spine. As he gasped involuntarily, Picards desire was written plainly on his face. Swallowing hard, he quickly regained his composure. Tugging on his uniform jacket and squaring his shoulders, he said under his breath to Bateson, "let's move in."

Following Picard over to the group, Bateson chuckled to himself, "why do I get the feeling young Captain Juan is about to receive one of those pesky little life lessons?"

Vash's gaze fell on Jean-Luc. As he approached, confident determination blazed in his steel-grey eyes. Attired in full dress uniform, he carried himself with refined aplomb of a French Marshal. Vashs breath caught in her throat at the way his natural commanding presence revealed itself in his handsome, chiseled features.

When the two senior captains joined the group, Juan immediately began the introductions. Smiling down at the lovely woman next to him, he gestured, "Councilmember Vash this is Morgan Bateson, captain of the Bozeman."

"We've met," Vash smiled at Bateson. "Good to see you again, Captain."

"Likewise," Bateson nodded returning Vash's smile.

"And this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S. Enterprise, the Federation's Flagship," Juan continued.

Instantly realizing Jean-Luc was up to something, Vash decided to follow his lead and play along. She gasped sounding somewhat awed, "Picard, as in the legendary Picard maneuver?"

"Yes," Juan replied, slightly disconcerted by the fact that the beautiful archaeologist was now gazing at the flagship captain as if Picard was Hercules himself.

"Bonsoir, Mademoiselle Vash. Jean-Luc Picard, tout a vous," Picard spoke in a gentle baritone as he stared directly into her vivid blue eyes. Moving toward her, he took one of her gloved hands and raised it to brush a courtly kiss across the back of it. "Tu es belle, un ange."

"Merci beaucoup, Mon Capitaine," Vash replied softly, demurely averting her eyes. She blushed slightly as he told her in French that she was a beautiful angel.

"Voulez-vous danser avec moi?" Still holding her hand in his grasp, he tenderly ran his thumb over the smooth, white, satin.

"Oui, Monsieur." As she accepted his invitation to dance, Vash gazed flirtatiously up at Jean-Luc through her lashes. Taking Jean-Luc's offered arm, she glanced over at Captain Juan. "It was nice meeting you, Donald."

Juan could only stand there and watch dumbfounded as the usually stoic and very proper Captain Picard led the sexy, younger woman to the dance floor. To no one in particular, he huffed, "why was Picard speaking French?"

"Maybe because he's a Frenchman," Bateson deadpanned, quite unable to help himself.

"Let me guess. Johnny just walked up, spoke a few pretty words in French, and then walked off with the belle of the ball," Admiral A'sterics chuckled as he joined the group. Seeing the confirming nods, he added, "Picard has been doing that since the day he entered the Academy. It used to drive us upper classmen crazy. Not only did this uppity freshman win the Academy marathon but he had the audacity to continually win the affections of the prettiest girls on and around campus."

"But, he's so much older than she is," Juan complained.

"May I remind you, Mr. Juan, that I'm several years Picard's senior." The Admiral leveled his gaze at the young officer. "And I by no means consider myself through."

"Yes, sir," Juan replied.

"You think you have room for the other foot in there, Donald," Bateson teased the younger man.

"Laugh now, Morgan," Juan retorted good-naturedly as he straightened his uniform. "But, the battle isn't over yet."

Watching Juan swagger off, Bateson chuckled to himself, "oh yes it is. It was over before it started, my friend."

As the orchestra began the opening strains of a sultry tango, Picard swirled Vash onto the dance floor. She took her place in his arms naturally, one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. His hand spanned the small of her back, resting against her silky skin. As they danced, they moved in perfect time with each other and the music.

Vash stared up into Jean-Luc's handsome features, her gaze drawn to the firm set of his mouth. She found herself fantasizing about the feel of his lips on hers, kissing her passionately. Her senses stirred from the warmth of his strong hand on the bare skin of her back. She gave him a small, conspiratorial smile. "Jean-Luc, you do realize that between our dramatic performance and this erotic tango we have probably set off every gossip monger between here and the Gamma quadrant."

"Of course," he chuckled softly. "But half of them will wrongly assume that I'm suffering from some sort of mid-life crisis."

"And the other half?"

"Will realize the truth, that I've fallen deeply in love with a very beautiful woman." Picard paused for a moment, staring down into her vivid, blue eyes. In a deep, resonating whisper, he confessed, "you're all I've been able to think about for the last four days, petite amie."

Vash's breath caught in her throat from the intensity of his steel-grey eyes. Held captive by his gaze, she whispered back, "I missed you."

Picard began to lightly trail his fingers over the feminine curve of her spine from the small of her back up to her shoulders and down again. Enjoying the feel of her warm, satiny skin, he murmured in her ear, "I want you."

"Jean-Luc." Vash gasped under her breath as she tried to suppress the small shudder that coursed through her. Her entire body tingled with excitement as his fingertips traveled along the length of her spine with a feather-light caress.

Picard felt Vash's body tremble slightly and her grip on him tighten. Seeing the fire that smoldered in her beautiful, blue eyes only served to fuel his own heated desires. Emboldened by her reactions, he continued on a quest for personal satisfaction. His voice was low and husky, "as soon as we're alone, I intend to make love to you watching the passion in your eyes as I cherish and caress every inch of your exquisite body."

The wolfish timbre of his bedroom baritone had the effect of a physical touch. Dancing completely on autopilot, she closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as erotic images inspired by his words flitted across her mind. Opening her eyes and licking her suddenly dry lips, she pleaded, "Jean-Luc, please."

"Ohhh, the lady can dish it out, but she certainly can't take it," Picard teased. He had to give Vash credit. While they danced, she never missed a step.

"I didn't dish it out on a dance floor," she murmured.

"No. You chose right before I was to take an eight hour shuttle ride with Admiral Haden. A very uncomfortable eight hours in which I had plenty of time to consider forms of . . . retribution," Picard retorted. He noticed the slightly guilty expression that crossed her face as she realized it was time to pay the piper. As the tango neared its end, he saw Captain Juan approaching them. The flagship captain had to admit, the young Federation captain certainly had the going boldly part down. However, it was time for him to learn the part about no man going. With the last beat of the music, Picard pulled Vash to him crushing her soft, supple curves against his hard, muscular body. Watching Juan stop dead in his tracks, he lowered his mouth to capture Vash's in a fiercely possessive kiss. His tongue plunged past her parted lips, decisively claiming everything in its path.

As her lips and tongue responded ravenously to his, Vash lost herself in the strength of his arms and his clean masculine scent. Her entire body now felt as if it were made of liquid flames and her small hands clutched him tightly. They were both out of breath when Jean-Luc finally broke the kiss. Gasping to catch her breath, Vash caught sight of a retreating Juan from out of the corner of her eye. Her breathless whisper held a hint of amusement, "Captain, was that very, uncharacteristic public display of affection because you were suddenly overcome by passion . . . or the need to mark territory?"

"Yes," Picard rumbled succinctly.

"Well, I guess that's preferable to the alternative method of marking territory," Vash cooed as she graced him with a brilliant smile. Leading her from the dance floor, Picard slid his arm protectively around her waist his hand resting on the small of her back. As the couple stepped off the dance floor, Bateson walked toward them.

"Jean-Luc, our group has a table just over there." Bateson gestured in the general direction of the table. After glancing toward the beaten Captain Juan, he smiled and teased the couple, "I had no idea you two were such sadists."

"Don't worry, Morgan. I'm sure Captain Juan will make a complete recovery," Vash laughed softly as the three of them headed for their table. "Just about the time the next leggy blonde crosses his path."

Bateson looked over at Picard, "your lovely lady underestimates herself."

"Continually," Picard agreed.

"Flatterers," Vash chuckled.

The rest of the evening, Picard never left Vash's side. He delighted in introducing her to his friends and colleagues as well as wining, dining and dancing with her. For her part, Vash seemed to bask in his attentions. Her sparkling eyes and radiant smile lit the entire room. As the festivities began to wane, Picard decided it was the perfect time for a discreet exit.

After one last dance, they stepped off the dance floor. Leaning into her, Picard inquired in his most suave voice, "voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"

"Oui, mon Capitaine." Vash looked up at him flirtatiously through her lashes and cooed, "your place or mine?"

"I've been given a room here in the palace," he suggested with a raised an eyebrow.

Taking his arm, Vash smiled impishly. "Let's go."

Standing near the dance floor with a group of officers, Captain Juan overheard the conversation. As he watched the couple make their way out of the hall, Juan muttered to Captain Flaherty who was standing next to him, "Flaherty, you're supposed to be one of Starfleet's best linguistics experts. What the hell did he just say to her?"

"You're not going to believe this. I don't believe it," Flaherty gasped in shock. "But Picard just asked her if she would sleep with him tonight."

"Damn, I need to learn French," Juan grumbled.

That last statement finally broke Bateson, who was also standing near by. Laughing, he said to Juan, "you don't need to learn French."

"Did you see that, Morgan?" Juan exclaimed, pointing in the direction in which the couple just disappeared.

"Son, you have no idea what you're looking at," Bateson informed the younger man.

"Picard walking off toward his room with a very beautiful member of the Archaeology council," Juan retorted.

"Who happens to be the chief archaeologist onboard the Enterprise," Bateson replied.

"They know each other?" Juan was stunned.

"Biblically," Bateson chuckled. "You have spent the entire evening throwing yourself at the woman who will most likely be the future Mrs. Jean-Luc Picard."

"The future wife of the flagship captain," Flaherty laughed, slapping Juan on the back. "Well, it was a nice career while it lasted, Donald."

Juan looked quizzically at Bateson. "So, what was all that flirting in French earlier?"

With a wicked grin, Bateson clapped Juan on the shoulder as he answered simply, "Foreplay."

With the same pink, marble-like stone and pillars, the architectural style of Picard's assigned room was a scaled-down version of the reception hall. A row of four pillars separated the luxurious sitting area from the raised, dais-like, sleeping area. In the middle of the sleeping area was a large bed with sumptuous bedding in white satin and surrounded by a diaphanous curtain of white silk. Another row of four pillars separated the sleeping area from the doors leading to the private balcony.

Looking around, Vash whistled with appreciation. "Once again, I see how being a starship captain has its rewards."

"This is unusually opulent, even for a starship captain," Picard chuckled from behind her. Unable to resist the alluring amount of satiny skin exposed by the backless gown, he reached out and caught her around the waist. Wrapping his arms around her, he began to nuzzle the sensitive skin on the back of her neck. He trailed feathery kisses from the nape of her neck across the feminine slope of her bare shoulder.

The warmth of Jean-Luc's lips against her skin caused a shiver of excitement to race down Vash's spine. Trying to gain control over her rising desires, she turned in his arms to face him and splayed her hands across the expanse of his chest. The four rows of medals just above his communicator caught her attention. Brushing her fingertips over the ribbons, she quietly marveled, "there are so many. I've never seen you wear them before. In fact, this is the first time I've even seen them."

Sounding self-conscious, he admitted, "I'm uncomfortable wearing them. Somehow, it always seems very pretentious and grandiose."

"You earned them, Jean-Luc. Every one of them represents a time when you did something outrageously heroic and sexy and they decided not to arrest you but to reward you instead," Vash purred softly, tracing each ribbon with a fingertip. Coyly looking up at him through her lashes, she wondered, "And how many daredevil acts of heroism went unrecognized?"

"I'm not a hero," he insisted.

"Of course, you are," she told him candidly. "You're a hero to the Federation, to Starfleet, . . . to me."

Before Picard could respond, Vash's mouth claimed his in a heated kiss. All of his arguments were forgotten as the blood roared in his ears from the feel of her lush, full lips crushed against his own. As his lips answered the demands of hers, he instinctively pulled her lithe form tighter to him. When Vash finally broke the kiss, both of them were breathless.

"Just because I'm in love with the man under the uniform doesn't mean I'm not impressed with his accomplishments in uniform," Vash whispered. Serenely smiling up at him, she continued in her normal impish tone, "which reminds me of something."

Picard looked down to watch as Vash carefully slipped her fingers beneath his communicator and plucked it from his chest. Stepping from his arms, she casually tossed the item up and caught it in her hand. He smiled as she held the item up in front of her face and addressed it as if it were animate.

"I'm afraid that we won't be needing your services tonight."

Vash made her way over to the coffee table that held Jean-Luc's open briefcase. After tossing the communicator into the briefcase, she flipped the top down to close it. In a sultry voice, she informed him, "problem solved."

"Well done," Picard commended. He watched, transfixed, as Vash brought one delicate, gloved hand up to her lips. Leisurely, she pulled once on each satin-covered fingertip with her pearly white teeth to loosen the glove before very slowly pulling the it off. After repeating the process with the other glove, she dropped both on top of the closed briefcase. His eyes followed her as she made her way over to one of the pillars that separated the sitting area from the sleeping area. His gaze traveled over her, noticing how the glittering white and gold gown molded itself to the hourglass lines of her shapely silhouette. As she walked across the room, his eyes drank in the feminine curves of her shoulders, the graceful arch of her spine, the slight flair of her hips, and her long, shapely legs.

Leaning back against the pillar, Vash regarded their surroundings. There was something vaguely familiar about the room. As it suddenly dawned on her, she murmured aloud, "of course, Cleopatra."

Picard found himself mesmerized by the provocative sight of her casually leaning against the pillar. Her voice startled him out of his own thoughts. "Pardon me?"

She asked, "are you familiar with 'movies?'"

"Twentieth century cinema? I'm by no means an expert, but I have seen my share of them," he replied.

"I had a friend in college who was something of an aficionado. So, we would watch them quite a bit. I was particularly fond of the movie 'Cleopatra' with Elizabeth Taylor playing the title role. This room reminds me of that movie," Vash explained. With a slightly embarrassed smile, she admitted, "even with all my knowledge of ancient civilizations, the images from that movie are what I see when I think of Cleopatra."

Picard walked across the room to stand just in front of her. He gazed down at her lovely face for a long moment, his eyes lingering on her full, inviting lips. In a rich, bedroom baritone, he teased, "and just who would my beautiful Cleopatra prefer, a Caesar or a Mark Antony?"

Vash found herself captivated by Jean-Lucs masterful voice. She reached up with one hand and ran the tips of her fingers sensuously over his bottom lip. Trailing her fingertips up the strong, square line of his jaw to gently cup his cheek in the palm of her hand, she cooed, "why choose when I have a man who is both? A man who has the powerful, authoritative bearing of Caesar combined with the courageous daring of Antony."

Slightly disconcerted by her appraisal and with her nearness wreaking havoc on his senses, Picard was having difficulty finding a suitable retort.

Vash's hands moved to rest on Jean-Luc's shoulders, feeling the sinewy muscles of his shoulders through his dress uniform and thrilling at the breadth of them compared to her tiny palms. She continued to make her point, "as I understand it, you saw our lives in an alternate reality, decided you wanted that for yourself and set out to purposely create the same conditions in this quantum reality."

Picard nodded as Vash reached up with one hand to begin drawing lazy circles around the rank pips on his collar with one finger, distracting him even further. It was a fairly accurate description of his actions. He had been inexplicably drawn to her from the moment they met on Risa. No woman had ever been as quick at arousing his emotions. He wanted her for his own and would stop at nothing to have her. At the moment, all of his thoughts were filled with finally possessing his beautiful quarry.

Toying with his rank pips, Vash stared up into Jean-Luc's smoldering grey eyes. Her pulse quickened at the fierce, carnal heat emanating from those eyes. Her voice was soft and seductive, "once you realized it was a possibility, could anything have kept you from pursuing me and claiming me for yourself?"

"Nothing could have kept me from you, Vash," Picard confessed in a low, wolfish growl. His mouth descended onto hers, crushing her lips beneath his in a forcefully possessive kiss. Stealing between her parted lips, his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth searching for and finding hers. When he broke the kiss, her arms held his face within a hairbreadth of her own. Without a word, he pulled her away from the pillar and up into his arms. Effortlessly, he swept her up and carried her toward the bed.

FINIS


End file.
